


Till There Was You

by Picori



Series: The Story of Marius [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Because I can, Fluff, Genderqueer Character, M/M, Other, Penetrative Sex, Post-Canon, Smut, Vaginal Sex, and it's fantasy, because they fall for each real fast, it's all here, mermaid au, not a slow burn, post-gravel wars, post-mann co., queer sex, science and magic shit, semi-canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2020-06-26 07:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 57,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19762972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Picori/pseuds/Picori
Summary: "Marius heard the footstep to his left and looked up to see that it was the stranger again. Were they going to take him for themselves now? Maybe he was wrong about them the whole time. The more they approached, the more he pushed himself away. They lifted their hands again, the same gesture on the docks. They had no weapons, no nets, no nothing, just themselves. They did not mean any harm." Part 1 of 5 of "The Story of Marius"





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> (Hello everyone! Thank you so much for checking out my story! This will be split up into separate parts because it's LONG and there's alternate endings. I'm still currently writing it, so please bear with my consistency of posting new chapters. Anyway, enjoy the show, and leave a kudos, a review, anything! They're very much appreciated! -Picori)

-25 years ago-

* * *

"What if I don't...what if I don't want to marry her? What if...What if I don’t want to go through with the ritual?"

The question their son cowardly asked was more of a back-handed insult than a question at all. Cyreus and Talia stared at him in disbelief and disgust, glancing between in each other with a confused gaze.

"You _what?_ " Talia seethed.

"I-....I don't...love her. I can't be with someone that I don't love, and the ritual would just tie me to her--I can’t do it. I’m--I’m afraid."

"What does it matter if you 'don't love her?' Who cares if you’re afraid?" Cyreus cut in before his wife could answer. "This match has been decided when you were at the age of three. This marriage is of utmost importance to our families for the base of wealth and to create more of us."

Marius's face soured. "You-...You just want us to get married because of status and reproduction?! What am I to you? Am I your child or a piece of property that you think you can sell?"

Cyreus's veins were bulging from his neck, fists clenched and shaking at his side and chest puffed. His eyes spoke of nothing but outrage and authority. His authority, however, was being doubted by his own son, a step that he not permit him to take.

" _You_ are my son, and I will tell you what to do and you will follow it without any questions! Do you hear me!? You will never speak to me that way again!" A hand raised from his side and pointed at Marius with such iron grip, Talia was sure he was going to pop a vein. "You are to be loyal to your parents and respect them!"

"Why should I respect people who don't even respect _ME!?_ "

**WHAP!**

The force of the slap whipped his head so hard that he faltered backwards. Utter shock and betrayal was written all over Marius's face, and a red mark slowly took the shape of the back of Cyreus's hand. It stung like nothing Marius has ever felt before.

He held his cheek in his hand, tears swelling in his eyes. He couldn't feel them flow from his face. No one could ever cry underwater. It's just impossible.

Talia was at Cyreus's side, urging him to lower his arm. She set her piercing gaze on Marius, to injure him more with the daggers from her eyes.

"If you don't want this to happen again, you will marry Neema and forget this whole conversation." Talia spat.

Marius was silent for a moment. They couldn't see his face. They couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling. An idea had popped into his head. It was the only way out of this and he wasn't willing to endure a lifetime of depression from something he had no say in.

He muttered his response back to them.

"What did you say?" Talia squinted her eyes and strained her ears to hear him, letting the venom settle first before she struck again.

"I said," his voice louder and with more structure. "You can't make me."

His mother looked confused and glanced at her husband, and back to Marius. "What do you m-"

"I never want to see either of you again."

The look of realization washed over Cyreus's face. He cracked a snarled grin. "Are you banishing us? You can't do that, you have absolutely no auth-"

"I never want to see either of your hideous, worthless faces again," his voice grew to a shriek, "Because you are no longer part of my life! I'm taking the next current out of this abyss you call a 'home' and don't you dare try to follow me because I will **kill** you!"

His nostrils flared, spit flew from his mouth, he huffed and puffed from the energy that coursed through his body. His heart pounded in his chest. But the thing that got under his skin the most was his father's crooked, amused smile. It broke something in him.

"'You'll kill us?' Am I supposed to be threatened by that? What are you going to do, throw a crab at me?" Cyreus sneered.

That's all it took. Just one sniveling remark from his father, and he rushed at him like a tidal wave. Marius dug his shoulder into Cyreus's stomach, and the latter bent to recoil. It was enough force to push him to the floor, and Marius used it to his advantage. Claws slashed at his face, finding their way to his neck. A streak of red crossed his eyes, and he closed his hands around Cyreus's neck, pressing his hands down onto his trachea.

Cyreus struggled beneath his son's rage, tearing at his arms to let go. He gasped and choked. His gills were covered by Marius's hands, and his throat was being closed by said assailant. Sand kicked up around them as they wrestled each other, though Cyreus was already defeated.

Nails dug into Marius's shoulders and pulled at him to get off. He shrugged her off with a snap of his teeth. _Yes, teeth._ Talia dove back in and sunk her sharp teeth into her own son's flesh. He yelped and his hands left Cyreus's neck, searching to now find his mother and attempt to loosen her teeth from his skin. The attack was successful and she let go. She swam over to Cyreus, who was coughing and gasping.

Marius wiped a hand over his shoulder and it swept up blood. _Blood._

They both looked at him in profound shock. They were dumbfounded, immobilized.

Marius backed away, his livid gaze never leaving either of theirs. He passed a clawed hand over his throat and snarled at them, and spat on them. They didn't budge, they didn't say anything, they just watched him leave, breathless and injured. He took nothing with him. He didn't need anything from them anymore. He left with his back turned to them, and not once did he look over his shoulder.


	2. Loneliness Is His Best Friend (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I almost forgot to post this today. Whoops. I'm sick with bronchitis in the middle of July, so I'm off to a great start in my story, already forgetting to post the next chapter. The first few chapters are short, but the more we progress, the longer they'll be. Hang in there for now! Thanks for reading! -Picori)

-Present Day-

* * *

A yawn stretched Marius's mouth as he roused from his sleep. The sun had risen over the horizon, but was muted by dull, grey clouds. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

He spent the night under the docks of a bustling town known for its markets along the waterfront. He could see humans walk above him through the boards, down to the end of the pier and fish or just chat. Boats of all shapes and sizes constantly went in and out of the harbor. Some carried nets of fish, some carried masses of people. Some were huge but only held a few people with lots of shiny jewelry; those were always the loudest and most obnoxious. Some were tiny and could only carry two people. The area was always high in traffic, and Marius did his best to avoid all of it.

It was a good spot to hide in, though a couple of rowdy humans would sometimes stumble their way below the wooden floorboards and do crazy shenanigans that Marius didn't want to be part of. Not like he could anyway. He was a mythical creature. One of the most famous beings told among humans, claiming they're either "fake" or "real."

Well he's real, alright. So real that he has to scamper away whenever someone approaches. He knows what humans are and what they do. His parents used to scare him into avoiding them completely, fearing them and all that they do. Admittedly, he has seen more destruction from them than regeneration. He saw the oil spills, the pollution, the drilling, the whaling, the recklessness of them all. And he hated them. He cursed them with the bitterness of his heart.

He still holds it close to him. However, in more recent years, he is discovering that not all of them are destructive forces. He once saw a group of humans drag a shark back into the water and they watched it swim away. He has seen many of them release animals back into the ocean. He even saw lone groups take their fishing nets and catch the garbage that floated in the water. Some even dove under the water and took flashes (photographs, but he doesn't know what they are) of wildlife, leaving them alone and just appreciating their beauty.

Those were the good ones, those were the ones that respected life other than their own. He still had reason to believe that if they found him, their reactions wouldn't be so great.  
Marius opted to just stay out of sight, for his own safety.

A grumble sounded from his stomach to alert him of its emptiness. Food would be a good start to the day.

* * *

  
Marius hauled the last of his catch in a plastic bag he found (since they were everywhere) back to his place of residence under the docks. The contents clacked together, most of them were clams and mussels and the rest were small fish and a few pieces of vegetation. He gathered himself upon the sand and set the bag down to rummage through it.

He took a clam and used his sharp nails to pry it open. His nails were sharp enough to slice flesh and wedge them into clams and mussels alike. He repeated this process until he went through most of the bag, saving the vegetation for later. Meaty things can spoil quickly versus plants, so he saved them for lunch.

He shucked the last clam shell in his pile and tied up his bag. Back into the water he went and began his day of work.

Before he left his home, his parents had decided his occupation to be a healer of his clan. He was born with a gift that most mers deemed valuable and rare. His kisses had the power to heal, let land-dwelling creatures breathe underwater. But he did not want what his parents wanted. He found that the wildlife was much more enjoyable than his own kind, and refused to follow the path his parents chose for him.

_**One day, while he was out foraging, he found a frightened and injured octopus. His immediate reaction was to help the poor thing, but it fended him off for a good while before Marius was able to pacify it. He patched it up, gave it some food, and then left it to be on its merry way....except it didn't leave. In fact, it followed him. At first, he didn't think anything of it. Maybe it expected him to just keep feeding it.** _

_**Mers don't have to worry about absorbing toxins released by other animals unless it was ingested, penetrated or lacerated, like a poisoned dagger. Marius was able to handle the octopus with no problem, he just had to watch out for the beak.** _

_**Marius tried to shoo it away but it continued to follow him. He gave up and decided to take it in as a little companion. He checked the sex and determined it was a male; he named him Aristotle, after a funny name he once read on the bow of a ship. The two were inseparable. Aristotle accompanied him to place of practice, to his home, his foraging and hunting expeditions.** _

_**In return for saving his life, Aristotle became his trusty little sidekick. And he was a noble little fellow.** _

_**The lifespan of an octopus is only 3-5 years. Marius was aware of this, he was conscious that Aristotle will only be a part of his life for a little while. Yet, he was still devastated by his passing. This creature, this cephalopod, was the best thing that happened to him. He always had a reason to smile because Aristotle was by his side. He truly cherished the moments when he would isolate himself from his parents, and the octopus would climb into his lap. He missed his friend sorely, though he was thankful for everything he gave him.** _

Nowadays, roams the waters, helping sick and injured wildlife.  It has been his occupation for the last 20 years. For the marine life that can't communicate with a language. He uses his sixth sense, as all mers have, to relay his own intentions to sick and injured animals and to speak with them. Sometimes he's successful and sometimes he's not; it depends on the temperament of the animal. So far, along this coast line, he has rescued at least a dozen seals with nets around their necks in one week. Marius was prepared to wrap the discarded nets around the next fisherman that gets just a little too close to the water.

He usually spends the entire day keeping watch for animals in distress. Today, after a few hours of dodging fishing boats, surveying the harbor proved to be uneventful, which was a good thing.

That means the circle of life went on without the interruption of human garbage choking, say, a sea turtle. High tide had come and the underside of the docks were no longer accessible to humans. He took this time to retreat for the day.

The mer dug at the sand to create a ditch where he could lay without the tide taking him out while he slept. His fingers colliding with a few crabs, which he was quick enough to avoid their blasted claws. He snatched them up and tossed them in his bag of food, saving it for dinner after he made his "bed." Sand kicked up and created clouds of dust all around him. He coughed when he inhaled a few grains.

When the ditch was to his liking, he plopped himself down, taking his snack back with him. He pulled out an angry crab and took a rock to smash it open, killing it instantly and giving him access to the delicious meat inside. He hated crabs, but he they tasted so good. Too many times he was pinched by their strong pincers, once was all it took. Thankfully the crabs around here aren't anything like the coconut crabs he saw off the coast of New Zealand and Australia. Those suckers could easily clip off a hand. _But, just think of the meat that thing has!_ He'd be set for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!

Speaking of lunch, he noticed he skipped over it again. He tends to do that when out on patrol. He thinks he can make it up by eating twice as much for dinner. He always finds out that he just gets overstuffed faster by that logic. Hasn't learned that.

Marius ate his dinner in silence, as he always does. With no one to talk to, he feels there's no reason to talk. He tossed the bag aside again and laid down into his bed. He raised his arms and placed his hands behind his head to gaze up at the surface above. It had gotten darker, dark enough for the visibility in water to be poor. His belly was full and he was content, he saw no reason to not fall asleep. He closed his eyes, and let the sound of water slapping against wood send him off to sleep.


	3. Another Day (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'll be adding a few tags to this story, as I forgot to include them. The chapters are also a little shifted. I have them properly numbered in the title so it doesn't confuse my readers. Longer chapters are still ahead, hang in there! I also want to thank those that left a kudos and/or comments! Thank you so much!-Picori)

The sound of something being tossed into the water awoke him with a start. Marius shot up and prepared to swipe at whatever was thrown, but he saw nothing. The sun had broke through the thick clouds; they must have finally drifted somewhere. At dawn, the water was clearer, brighter. He looked up to find the source of the commotion: a cage attached to a string. He had seen these before. A piece of bait was placed in the center, and the trap would be set. Whoever was at the other end of the string would wait a few minutes for a crab to start munching, and then yank it back up, shutting the doors as it was hauled back up and trapping the crab. Sometimes, that's how he got his meals. 

It was good know it wasn't a fishing net. His shoulders relaxed and let out a sigh he didn't even know he was holding. Well, might as well start the day. Marius set out to get some food.

* * *

  
He returned from his foraging with the usual haul, along with a few shiny things he found. A can, a ring, some keys, useless things when lost among the humans. But his most favorite piece that interested him was a small reflective disk. He had never seen anything like it before. When he found it, the case was dull and scratched up. It was uncommon enough for him to pluck it from the ocean floor. Now, after recounting his finds, he discovered that it could be opened, and something else was inside. At first, he nearly panicked when he saw a face staring back at him. He dropped it and backed away from it. Nothing happened. _Weird. What was that? Is there someone trapped inside? Who was that?_ Marius cautiously approached it again and picked it up. He opened it. The face was back. He quirked a brow, and so did the face. He stared into the eyes of it, but it was _him_ that he saw. He was staring into his own eyes! This face was not a stranger's, it was his own! He tapped a pointed nail on it. Solid. He made an angry sneer, and it copied him. _Oh wow! That really is me! Is...that what I really look like?_ Realizing he had never actually seen himself, he held it away from himself to get a full view out of this limited, small disk. He had black hair, swept to the side, that flowed every which way in the water. His brows matched his hair, thick and angled. His eyes were a deep sea green, curious and inquisitive. He widened them, then squinted them. Different shapes than that of his natural shape. His nose was...a good size. Not too thin and small, not too big and wide, though the tip was a little pointed. His mouth wasn't large. Average, actually. His lips were pinkish, not thin or full. No cupid's bow. His face shape was angular, cheekbones sharp and chin pointed. 

Travelling downward, he saw the gills in his neck. They barely moved when he inhaled, and they opened when he exhaled. He sucked in a large amount of water to watch his gills, but he coughed on a couple of grains of sand. His chest displayed a little patch of dark hair, right smack in the middle. Little specks of green scales were all over. His chest, shoulders, face, neck, stomach, probably even back. He tilted the disk back to his face. Turning his face enough to see it in the reflection he studied his ears. On the small side. Kind of weird-looking, compared to some mers'. 

" _Huh,_ " he opened his mouth and noticed his teeth. Straight across. No shark teeth, no fanned teeth, very much a like a human's. Not even his incisors were elongated. Not very intimidated. It occurred to him why he hisses and snarls. Lack of frightening teeth to scare his predators off was enough to resort to warning sounds and noises. " _I...think that's enough of that._ "

The mirror clacked shut and laid it in his bed. A hand reached back into the bag, and he began his breakfast.

* * *

  
" _There we go,_ " he freed the last seal from yet another tangled net. " _Good as new, my friend._ "

The seal shook off the nasty thing and bumped his hand. He chuckled and patted the creature. It took off in a flash, and Marius was left watching it swim away. 

He gripped the net in his hands. It was sturdy enough to cut through flesh if it was tight. It's no wonder some seals and turtles end up losing a limb. Anger boiled in his chest as he glared at the dastardly contraption. _This thing causes nothing but pain and suffering for my fellow inhabitants!_ _I've had enough of these things!_ He wanted to destroy it, or maybe--

Marius bolted from his spot in a feverish dash. He didn't care if a human saw him in his fit of rage, he wanted to send a message. The docks. Yes, perfect. It was still high tide, so the water was high enough for him to toss something over. He headed straight for the wooden posts. His fins carried him swiftly, and when he pushed himself to jump up out of the water, he threw the net with such force that it knocked an unsuspecting visitor to the ground. He fell back into the water with a _**SPLASH!**_ and fled the scene. He wasn't sure how many had seen him. In fact, he didn't care. At a glance, he only saw one human. So, one's word against how many in the world? It's unbelievable and impossible. He was confident no one else saw him, not even the one he threw the net at. No regrets whatsoever. It felt good to do it. It was an innocent person probably, but there's countless innocent creatures that were killed because of their carelessness. He felt it was justified.

Marius waited to calm his nerves, munched on a few pieces of seaweed. Only until he was of sound mind did he return to his work.


	4. Mick (3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So I figured I'd post two chapters because they're so short. I think that's what I'm going to do. If the chapter is short enough to be grouped with another short one, I'll post two. If the next one is longer and I post it with the previous short one, I may or may not post the following week. I'll have to see as we go. -Picori)

"I'm here live, at the scene of the incident, where witnesses say a 'mermaid' jumped up on the decks of Jenson's Pier, and quote 'viciously attacked a man,' end quote, who had to be rushed to the hospital for treatment of inflicting wounds. Fifty-seven-year-old Jerry Harolds says he was finishing up his day at the docks when out of nowhere, a creature with 'the upper half of a human and the lower half of a fish' emerged from the water in a frenzied attack. Harolds says it, quote, 'tore at his arms as he helplessly defended himself against the terrifying creature. It tried to bite him with its razor sharp teeth, though Harolds fended it off with his fishing pole.' Police and marine researchers have been searching the water for any evidence of said mermaid. It is an on-going investigation that the Mayor says 'will look into for solid evidence of a perpetrator, not necessarily being a mythical creature..' Reporting live in Jenson's Harbor, I'm Jillian McAnderson, Channel 10 News."

"Aaaand we're out." A man with a camera announced as the light went out. The reporter dropped her microphone to her side and decomposed her posture. 

"Ugh, can you believe this, Richie? Am I really reporting on a 'mermaid?' What do they take me for?"

The man named Richie lowered the camera back into the news van and wiped his brow. "I dunno, Jill. But I'm with you on this one."

"I mean, come on. Why does Tisha get to take anchor while I get the bullshit stories? Who fucking thinks of this shit?" She grabbed her water bottle and took a sip.

"Quacks like Jerry Harolds."

"Ha! You're not wrong there!"

Marius overheard the voices above him. He understood most of it, though some words evaded his English dictionary. They were talking funny about an attack by a mermaid, most of which was obscured. He just threw the net, he didn't try to bite anyone, he doesn't even have sharp teeth. He was honestly shocked that word travelled quick in this town. Now, humans were crawling all over the pier, looking _for him_. Some dressed in funny gear and penetrated the waters, searching with their beams of light. More boats swarming the waters, shining their lights in a large sweep along the surface. Marius dodged any that came his way. However, he could no longer return to his place of rest. 

A jolt ran through him. _He left his shiny face (mirror) in his bed! Aw, for the love of Neptune!_ He smacked a hand to his forehand and rubbed his face. He growled audibly. Of the all the trinkets he lost and found, of all the things that entertained him in the open world of the ocean, he didn't want to lose that one. He just found it! There was no way he could go back there and get it, the placed was infested with humans. It was too dangerous, and it was pointless to go back for something material. Though, it didn't hurt to check if it was still busy.  
With a sigh of annoyance, he trudged on, avoiding the spots of light like they were volcanic vents. He couldn't let his get in the way of his job. There were still animals in need of rescue. He wasn't going to let this slip up stop him from helping, or Neptune damn him.

__

* * *

"I swear, I saw somethin' over here."

"Tavish, you were probably drunk."

"No, no! Will ya jus' listen ta me!? Look!" Tavish pointed to a pile of discarded clam and mussel shells. "Doesn't that look suspicious to ya!?"

"The only thing that looks suspicious is three blokes pokin' around a crime scene."

Three men snuck down to the underside of the docks where there, Marius's pile of shells remained. Tavish, a burly African-Scottish man with an eye patch, Mick, a slim lackadaisical New Zealander, and Jacques, a wiry-framed Frenchman who was the least amused of them all. Tavish was the one they insisted on investigating the site. Normally, they'd go about their Wednesday nights drinking at the local bar, but the Scotsman got wind of a possible mermaid sighting, and he had to see it for himself. 

Jacques sat down on a sturdy boulder, pulling his cigarette case from his coat pocket. He held one between his lips and struck a match, puffing until the cigarette was lit. "I don't understand why a pile of shells looks suspicious," he exhaled the smoke and put his case away, tossing the extinguished matchstick. "In case you haven't noticed, _mon amie,_ we're underneath the docks of a bustling pier. Teenagers probably messed around down here. It's also a particular hot spot for midnight rendevousz."

Mick tucked his hands into his pockets and shuffled his shoes into the sand, as if to wipe off any questionable residue. 

Tavish chuffed. "Will you jus' drop the skeptic act fer once!? They caught a real mermaid, Jacques! A real one!"

The latter pinched his glabella. "No they didn't, it was someone's account. We don't know if he's telling the truth. For all we know, he could be shitting us just to get a cult following and television fame. Not everything that is said on the news is true."

The third member of the party drowned out their bickering. They were always like that. Jacques was the stick in the mud, Tavish was the one with the crazy ideas, and Mick just sorta went along with them. There wasn't much to their lives after Mann Co. They're ex-mercenaries. Nothing excites them anymore, except for Tavish's hair-brained schemes. 

Mick was the one desperate for a change. Something new. Something strange. The horrors of war against piles of gravel became numb to him. And after the war ended, they were discharged and sworn to secrecy. Mann Co. has a funny way of saying "thank you for your service:" by always having tabs on your whereabouts and what you say. Hell, he's sure he has run into Miss Pauling, the administration's hard-working secretary, a few times and he didn't even know it. Their reputation is nothing but a facade, he thinks. They act tough, but if word gets out, it'll be all over for them. Not that he really cared, he doesn't have business with them anymore. He has no interest in spilling his guts to the feds. At least they paid him _well._

He looked out on the water. Something about it always drew him in. He grew up on a farm with his parents; maybe it was the change of scenery that captured him. The sea has always been known to be mysterious. He didn't doubt that stranger things lie below the surface. In fact, it should him that Tavish should be talking to. Mick believed in it more than Jacques ever will, but the ex-demo always liked a challenge. 

He was about to turn his attention back to the arguing goons when something caught his eye. Was....Was that...a person? Out here? In...the water? They were staring back at him. If they needed help, they weren't thrashing about and trying to scream. They were just...stationary. Black hair, fair-skinned. He couldn't make out the color of the eyes. What...were they doing?

"Hey," Mick interrupted, his eyes never leaving the person. "D'you guys see that?"

The two stopped arguing and looked at him.

"See what?" Tavish asked slowly.

Mick tilted his head in the direction of the person. "That."

The Scotsman followed his gaze to find that something was in the water, but he couldn't see it very well. None of them had vision like the ex-sniper's. 

Jacques peered around Mick's body, not wishing to leave his seat but to check out this strange happenstance. He squinted. "I don't see anything."

"You don't? How could you not? It's right there, I swear on me grave."

"Mick, you know none of us have your eagle-eye vision. I mean, look at me, I've got a bloody eye patch on! My vision is only half a' yours."

"Are you sure you didn't smoke anything before you joined us, bushman?" Jacques mused, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth, a crude smirk on his lips. 

"Oh shut up, you know I quit that stuff," he broke his gaze to snap his eyes at the snickering Frenchman. "I'm tellin' ya, there's-"

He knew that was going to happen. As soon as he looked away, it would disappear. He accepted his defeat rather quickly. "O' course, 's not there anymore."

Jacques stood from his seat and flicked his cigarette onto the sand, rubbing it out with his shoe. "A likely story. Gentlemen, if you don't mind, I've had a enough of scouring for mythical things. I think I'd like a drink. Care to join to me?"

The ex-sniper scanned the water over and over again. Nothing. He hoped that he'd see movement that led to it again, but the water was as still as the ocean could be. Mick turned back to his friends, who were already trekking back up to the boardwalk. He could go for a cold one. It was probably just a trick of the eye. 

Marius popped his head back and watched them climb their way back up, probably never to be seen again. But that one, the one that saw him, they stood out. His heart skipped. Who was that? Why...did he feel so...captivated? His cheeks flushed. _Wh-What's going on?_ They are just a _stranger._ Curiosity got the better of him. Mers, they are supposed to hate humans, avoid them like they're certain death. But Marius suddenly felt there was something different about them, they way they kept their eyes on him. He wanted to know more about them, wanted to see them again. He started to swim away with the stranger on his mind. _Yes, that's it. That's what I'll do. I'll study them. Maybe I can learn something._

Completely forgetting that he had to find a new place to sleep, he went on, distracted and carefree.


	5. Cupid's Arrow (4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'd like to note that Mick and Marius will refer to each other as gender neutral because they don't want to assume a wrong identity. You'll find out in later chapters. Just wanted to give a heads up! -Picori)

Day after day, Marius scanned the beach, looking for that human. He kept to his duties, but in his free time, which he had a lot of, he searched and searched. Though he hasn't been successful, he was beginning to learn more about humans. For example: they visited the beach in colorful patterns (bathing suits), sat on a cloth and ate food. Some laid in the sun until they were completely red like a sea star, and then flipped over to do the other side as well. Some swam in the ocean, but not very far. He noticed it was only where they could stand. A few stray ones had to be pulled back in from another set of humans in red clothes (lifeguards); one even needed a boat to be rescued! Humans have a strange relationship with all things dangerous. They forget that the ocean gives and takes life. It's unforgiving, secretive, and beautiful. It was Marius's home, and no matter where he went, there was at least one human invading his territory. _They were everywhere._

Every one of them...except the one he wanted to see. Marius was a headstrong being. When he wanted something, he sought after it. And though outside forces are preventing him from obtaining this new goal, he wasn't going to give up. He took breaks to rest and eat. Helped a few animals along the way. But, he didn't want to accept the odds that weighed against him. Something's gotta give.

* * *

  
By the end of the day, Marius trudged around for his last survey. It wasn't the defeat that was getting to him, but the boredom. A few nosy and brave ones went along the rocks of his hiding place, and he had to dive below until his shadow wasn't detectable. He'd resurface when they left.

He was about to call it quits when he recognized the gait of the human he saw days before, in the crowd of people along the boardwalk. They were making their way to the jetty, exactly where he hid. Panic set it in, but he didn't want to leave! They were right there! Hide, hide! He dove back under, waiting and watching for their silhouette to pass above. Surely, there they were. They dragged their feet along the rocks until they came to a stop. Must have reached the very tip of the jetty. It was then that Marius deemed it safe enough to sneak around.

And there they stood. They watched the ocean, a sad longing in their eyes. They seemed somber and quiet. Their hair was smoothed back, slicked behind the ears, scruff on their chin and jowls. Marius stared in absolute wonder. They were so...handsome. He leaned against a rock, steadying himself from strong feelings. 

He never heard them speak. He wondered what their voice sounded like? Gruff and low? High and airy? The possibilities were endless, yet he anticipated anything. It was his lucky day because the stranger suddenly spoke.

"Oh what have we got here?" They knelt down to grab a little critter crawling across the rocks. "What're you doing up here by yourself?" 

Low and grumbled, like if a thunderstorm was in the distance and he heard the soft rumbles from afar. Marius swooned pathetically.

"C'mere ya little ankle biter," they plucked the hermit crab off of their shoe. They lowered the tiny thing back into the water, onto a shelf of rock submerged in water. "There ya go. Safer there than up here. Coulda stepped on ya." They chuckled to themselves.

This whole scene that played out before him was enough judgement for Marius. They stopped and helped something much smaller than them, much like he'd do. This human was one of the ones that cared for life other than their own. Marius's heart ached and throbbed. He didn't think it was possible to fall for someone in just a week, and yet, here he was defying that notion. 

A thought popped into his head: would they react the same way if he approached them? They technically already saw him, but it was just a glance. Would they be just as kind? Or would they scream and alert the authorities that the "vicious mermaid" has been found? The mer bit his lip nervously. He craved the stimulation of intellect. The last mer he spoke to was a few years ago. Ever since, he continued to be on his own, just as he was before he met them. No one to talk to, no one just be around, no one to touched and be touched, no nothing! His heart screamed at him to do something, say something, to this human that captured his heart in one fell swoop. But his mind prevented him from doing anything, from making a sound, from moving. His brain said "absolutely not," but his heart said "just do it!"

This inner turmoil clouded his mind. All the while, the stranger turned around and headed back for town. Marius realized this and squeezed out of his hiding spot and followed them below until the sand rose up and he couldn't go any farther. 

He emerged his head and watched their back, wishing that he'd see them again soon.


	6. Catch of the Day (5)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I ALMOST FORGOT TO POST AGAIN. Gomen gomen TTATT this is where shit starts to pick up. And because I nearly forgot to post again, I'm gonna upload two chapters for makin' y'all wait. Also, brownie points if you spot my homage to a famous line.)

For weeks, Marius stalked the stranger. He didn't know anything about them, their name, their pronouns, nothing! He admired from afar, yearning to just push the boundaries of myth and fact so that he could meet them. Was he just waiting for the right moment? Or was he afraid? He could not tell, he didn't have the answer. His tradition told him to stay away, but his rebellious side said to disobey and discover. He was at war with himself. All he could do was just hopelesly pine for them.

He would patrol the waters with a heaviness on his heart and soul. The animals he helped would always make him smile, but it was short lived. He didn't know what to do with himself! From sun to moon, and from moon to sun, they were all he could think about. That smile, that voice, the curiousness in their eyes matched his own. He wanted to know everything about them-...

Marius shook his head as he was interrupted from his thoughts. Schools of fish swam past him in a hurry, some slapped his shoulders and head as they fled. _What?_ He barely had time to turn and look when a huge fishing net was dragged along the floor, scraping up any fish that just wasn't fast enough. Marius was swept right up with them. The net closed and trapped the giant wad, and in turn, they pushed against the net, hoping to break free from their impending death. The mer did everything he could not to panic and found the net. He pulled and bit at the fibers, tried to rip a hole to escape, but this was beyond anything he had to break. 

Collectively, the mass of fish moved upward; the net was being pulled up to the boat. Anxiety seized his chest, and he thrashed about, colliding with the equally afraid marine creatures. Slowly, the water spilled out of the pockets and they were hit with the humid air and hot midday sun of the summer. They flopped and gasped, hoping to find some kind of water. The crane jolted to a stop, the net was completely out of the water. Marius was sandwiched inside, stiller than a dead carcass. Maybe if he didn't make any kind of movement, he could hide in the pile. 

That idea was crushed as the crane jumped to the right and moved slowly to angle it over the deck. A click sounded and the net collapsed on the wooden deck. Fish spilled every which way, revealing Marius crashing on his stomach. The fisherman gasped aloud. 

"Holy shit!"

"No fuckin' way!"

"I'm dreaming right? I'm dreaming!"

The crew exclaimed as they ogled the mythical creature. In turn, Marius's wide eyes searched their astonished faces. All unfamiliar, barbaric, and curious. 

"Boss, you gotta come see this!" A crewman with a red cap shouted to the shadowed figure in the hull. 

Heavy boots thudded on the boards, slow and domineering. A man with a grizzled beard that went down to his stomach made his way to the deck. 

The sun glared behind his head as Marius strained to see his face. 

"What have we got here? Looks to me that we caught a mermaid, boys." He knelt down in front the frightened mer. Immediately, Marius swiped a clawed hand to get him to back off, but the man caught his wrist before his nails met his cheek. The crew ooo'd and aaah'd. The man sneered a rotten, toothy grin. "I don't think so, _my little treasure._ "

His breath stank of alcohol, but Marius had no knowledge of alcohol. The putrid smell of chemicals filled his nostrils, and he coughed.

"Gismo," he turned his head to bark the name. "Throw the net over him. I don't want him escaping."

A pudgy man with a limp took the net and wrapped it around the frozen mer. With the grizzled man's iron grip, Marius did not dare to break from it. He was trapped, defenseless.

The man back away from him. "Whatever you do, don't touch him. He's dangerous and won't hesitate to rip your face off. Leave the handling to me. For now, just keep watch of 'im. I'm takin' us back to the docks." 

"Aye, captain!" They all unanimously agreed with no arguments.

Marius remained under the heavy weights of the net. As the captain turned to walk away, the mer thrashed about. He threw his weight around, fingers getting caught in the little holes of the net. His tail slapped and whipped the boards. The crewmen scrambled to immobilize him, grabbing poles with hooks on them and attempting to stick him with it. Two men went on either side of him, and threw a rope over his body. They tightened and fastened it to the boat, keeping him glued to the floor. They repeated it until the only thing he could move was his fins. 

He rode the way in silence, in fear, in humiliation. His nightmare was coming true. He had been captured by humans, and now they were off to do Neptune knows what. Dissect him, slice him up and eat him, trade him, hold him captive until he died. These gruesome revelations struck him like Jupiter's lightning strikes upon the water. This was it. He was going to die. Marius coughed out a sob, laid his head upon the cold wood, and cried. He didn't hold back. He let the ululations tear from his throat. The terror took over his conscience, and he lamented.

The wails were loud enough to be heard from the approaching docks. Some visitors left while others flocked to the incoming boat. Among them, a reluctant Mick. 

The boat sidled up against the docks and crewmen jumped from the deck to fasten it to the posts. They began their busy work of clearing the fish as soon as possible, for their biggest catch was still aboard. The captain growled out his orders, and the bustling crew responded without question. They got themselves a real mermaid, they were rich! 

The captain moved the hook over the nets and lowered it to be latched on. The man with the red cap untied the bonds, hooked it, and gave the latter a thumbs up. Slowly, the mer was lifted from the deck. Over the side of the boat, the crowd watched the crane lift him up and over the side. They all gasped and shouted.

"Oh my god! Look at that!"

"It's the mermaid! See, I told you it was true!"

"Holy shit, I owe you $100! Fuck, dude!"

Mick was at the outside of the crowd. He heard someone exclaim that it was the mermaid, probably the same one Tavish was looking for when they were below the pier. He caught a glimpse of the face ensnared in the nets. Wait, was that what he saw in the water? He couldn't see it very well, but the hair was black. He just had to get a closer look.

He pushed his way through the mass of people to the front. Some tried to push back but he proved to be stronger. The huddled creature was covered in thick nets. The tail was a sea green, accented with purple tips in the fins. Marius picked his head up with limited movement and looked up at the invading crowd. Faces upon faces stared at him, fingers pointing to him, the cacophonous shrill of voices infiltrated his ears. His heart pounded against his rib cage. 

Then it happened. Marius found Mick's, in the sea of onlookers. He heard nothing else but his racing heart as they locked eyes. He felt a...a _zing!_ like something electric. he couldn't describe it any other way. It was definitely the person he had been looking for. It was as if the stranger understood his gaze, and Mick jumped into action.

He crouched down against the mer, showing that he meant no harm by putting his hands in the air. Marius didn't budge, in fact he stopped struggling. He watched him work. Mick produced a hidden blade in his holster on his back. Called it a kukri.

"Phew, what a knife." One person whispered to themselves.

Immediately, he went to work, pulling and slicing at the thick net. He earned some cheers and some phrases of opposition. Overhead, a looming figure blocked out the light again.

"HEY! What do you think you're doing?" The captain roared over the crowd. He glared right down his nose and Mick.

The ex-sniper stopped mid-cut and snapped his head up to face the offender. "I'm pickin' daisies for me mum. The fuck does it look like I'm doin'?"

The grizzled man towered over Mick even as he boarded the docks. He put a boot on top of Marius's body, and leaned his elbow on in. He pointed a chewed thumb at his chest. "This is my catch, asshole. I caught 'im with my net. So back the hell off."

"Like hell I won't. In case you haven't noticed, mate, I've got knife in me hand. You either let them go, or I'll do it meself and shank you to keep your grimy hands off 'em."

The captain narrowed his eyes, lips turning into a disgusted frown. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a promise." He spat back. 

The larger man lunged for Mick, but the latter was faster. Years of mercenary training paid off big time. He swiped the blade across the captain's stomach; a woman shrieked, however, there was no blood. A chunk of hair fell from his beard, to the docks. The crowd let out a sigh of relief. He barely nicked him, but close enough to give a warning. The captain stood agape, patting his body for wounds.

Mick turned his attention back to the mer. He pulled the ropes taught against his blade and they sliced like thin stems. Gradually, the net became looser. Mick pulled off the net entirely. 

"Give 'em some space, ya bloody bogans! Get outta the way!" Mick waved his arm as if he could move the crowd to the right to clear a path for the mer's escape. They actually complied and moved. He gave one last look him, and Marius exchanged the glance with a slight nod. 

Nails scraped the boards and clambered to grip it. The people responded with shouts of surprise and backed up farther. His tail pushed him against the docks, earning a few scrapes along his underside. He didn't care. This was his chance. Freedom was just over that edge. He reached it and dove straight into the water. People gathered at the edge and cheered and clapped while some scoffed and cursed Mick. 

Marius propelled himself forward, away from the docks, back out to sea. Forget everything, forget the stranger, it wasn't worth his life anymore. He sped under the surface, his silhouette fading in the distance. 

Mick stood from his spot, kukri held loosely. He watched the shadow dash under the current. His heart felt lighter. He had done a good deed, and he was prepared to get messy if someone stood in his way. It was similar to the thrill of his old work. Going toe-to-toe with the enemy spy, exchanging fighting words, and dodging the blades that sliced at his clothing. Except this time, he was the good guy.

"You motherfucker!"

A flash of grey flickered in front of him and boarded the boat again. The captain furiously tugged at the tarp that covered something poised at the bow of the boat. He unveiled a harpoon, ready to be used for whatever occasion. Mick's heart plummeted. 

"You ain't gettin' away, you slippery fucker! Boys, outta the way!" 

The crew ducked out of his view as he swung the harpoon to take aim. The captain searched the waters until, "AHA! Gotcha!"

Fast approaching footsteps sounded to this right and Mick collided with the captain as he pressed the trigger. The harpoon projected right towards Marius, though the collision pushed it a little off. 

The mer heard a noise behind him, but he pressed on, no time to look back. That is, until a searing slice was felt on his left side. He slowed a sudden stop and clutched his side. Blood rapidly seeped everywhere, clouding in the water. The pain felt like a sting of a jellyfish. Hot, agonizing, poisoned. He looked to find the harpoon sinking downward into the depths. The tip of it was similarly shaped like a spearhead, common among his people. He knew the weapon, knew it was meant to kill. 

Marius tried to keep the wound from pouring out his blood, but the water was of absolutely no help. **Sharks.** The predator popped into his head. _Sharks! They'll smell this! Th-...They'll find me!_ He had to seek shelter somewhere out of the ocean. But where? Somewhere along the coast, away from this town. Yes-...but he couldn't go to far. The wound was inflicted so much pain that it hurt to move. He couldn't stay there. He had to move. Now. Fast. Make sure it's fast enough that little to no blood can leave a trail. He pushed through the debilitating pain and swam as fast as he could.

Meanwhile, back at the docks, the captain rejoiced, and told his boys to reel him in. He rubbed his calloused hands together, awaiting his catch yet again.

Upon retrieving the harpoon, they found that the mer was not attached to the other end, by grisly design. The captain threw it down with a _clank!_ and used every curse word under the sun. He whirled around to point an accusatory finger at Mick, who was nowhere to be seen. The captain and the crew blinked blankly. Again, the bearded man shouted any curses that came to his mind.

The fight was over. He lost. Half of the crowd was in favor of Marius's release, while the other half sympathized the captain's grief. The show was over, and the first news van to arrive was too late to catch the story on camera.

Mick, however, was already in his own van, speeding along the coastline. He used a pair of binoculars that he always kept in his van to keep checking if he was following the trail of blood in the water. It was pretty far out there, and he kept swerving to stay on the right side of the road. He drove on and on until the trail tapered closer to the beach. He hung a left and made a 40 degree trek to the beach. When he reached sand, he slammed on his brakes. He turned the keys in the ignition to power off his vehicle, grabbed a medkit that he always kept handy under the passenger seat, and stumbled out of his van, shaken by the possibility that the mer was dead. The door clanked shut and he broke out in a sprint to get to the water.


	7. Filleted (6)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'd like to point out that their pronouns switch because the POV changes, flip flops. I just don't want anyone to get confused. ;;;)

Waves crashed against the sand relentlessly, in a state of panic. One of Neptune's children was injured by filthy humans. The ocean responded to this by churning and betraying any humans that dared to set out on a course or even bathe. Neptune was angry and he showed his wrath. 

Mick slowed to a stop as he reached the water's edge. He looked right: no trail, not even farther down. He looked to the left: a mess of red stained the water and sand behind a rock. He dashed to follow the trail to the very end. 

Before he appeared to the mer again, he hid first. Back against the rock, he peered around it to find a weeping, injured mer. His heart sank in his stomach. There, laid out on the sand, bleeding, tail curling and uncurling as waves of pain rippled from his side, was the mer. With caution, he stepped out from behind the boulder.

Marius heard the footstep to his left and looked up to see that it was the stranger again. Were they going to take him for themselves now? Maybe he was wrong about them the whole time. The more they approached, the more he pushed himself away. They lifted their hands again, the same gesture on the docks. They had no weapons, no nets, no nothing, just themselves. They did not mean any harm.

"N-No.....hurt," Marius sobbed out in his best English that he could. He picked it up from the maps that he found buried in the shipwrecks of the deep, from the sailors he'd listen to undetected, from the beach-goers he simultaneously watched while searching for Mick. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get the point across. 

A pang of guilt and sorrow struck Mick's heart. _No hurt._ What has happened to this poor creature that they had to learn the phrase "no hurt?" There was a plethora of things, actually, because humans are so destructive. He felt personally responsible for man's atrocities, and he owed this creature of the deep an apology. 

"It's alright, I'm not gonna hurtcha. No hurt. Friend." He laid a hand on his chest.

He did the same thing as he did on the docks: knelt down next to them. The mer dropped their head on the sand. He observed them first. Shallow, fast breathing, open wound, screwed face, writhing tail. If it was anything the medic, from his mercenary days, had taught him, it was how to treat trauma on site until help arrived. Only, he didn't have help on the way. He couldn't possibly call for help because the government would be all over them. That's the last thing they both needed. More meddling humans. Mick opted to take the responsibility of treating them by himself. Because fuck everyone else. 

Cautiously, he placed the medkit down in front of him. Marius looked at suspiciously. He popped it open and pushed the lid up to the supplies inside. Rubbing alchohol, medical gloves, tweezers, gauze, scissors, bandages, medical tape, a thermal blanket, pain meds, even a water bottle and some antiseptic soap, a stick for a tourniquet, a pack of sutures (individually packaged), and medical thread. Yep, he took the large medkits with him when he left Mann Co. What did they care? He thanked the medic for his knowledge of what item was which and how to use them. 

First thing's first: he put the gloves on. Once snugly fit, he grabbed the sterile pads of gauze and opened their packaging. This was a long laceration, and it wasn't on a limb that could be raised above the heart. He would need to apply a lot of pressure to get it stop bleeding, or at the very least, lessen the bleeding. He spoke to the mer as he worked. 

"Just relax, this'll be over quick, ok? Easy does it, eeeaassy does it," he extended the gauze to the wound. Upon contact, Marius screeched in pain. He writhed underneath the pressure, slapped his tail on the sand, clawed at the arm holding it down. Mick braved the scratches and held steadfast, pushing down as hard as he can. "Ssshh ssh, I know, I know. It hurts. I know."

He grabbed another piece and laid it to cover the rest of the wound. Blood was absorbed instantaneously. He went through piece after piece, applying the pressure as best he could to the wriggling creature. His arm muscles began to ache. Just a little longer. He checked the underside of it until the bleeding was diminished. Good. Onto the next part: cleaning it. He tossed the bloodied strips to the side.

Mick grabbed the water bottle from the kit and twisted the top off. It's supposed to be warm, but it was only lukewarm from sitting in the sunny seat of his van. It'll have to do because heating by fire would take too, even though he had the tools in his camper on his van to do so. He plucked the soap out and opened the bottle. 

"Hang on tight, this is gonna sting."

Sting. The mer understood that word. Mick poured the water over the wound and squeezed small amounts of soap to clean it. Their response was anticipated this time. The tail lifted and slapped the sand, the clawing and scratching the area around them. The water was helping to remove any pesky grains that stuck to it, and the soap rid the injury of bacteria and infection. However, the pain was becoming too much.

Through sobs and gasps, Marius felt himself slipping. He was sick to his stomach. If he didn't pass out, he was going to throw up. The struggling decreased, the movements ceased, and his vision went in and out of focus. The last image he saw the stranger's face.

Though he didn't want to admit it, the mer passing out was for the better because there wasn't any resistance. Damn, it's bleeding again. Mick stopped his process and took more gauze out of the kit address it again. He got closer and turned the creature's body so that they were no longer on their stomach. Sweat beaded along his brow. This was no easy task. He had to hand it to that crazy nurse. He did this daily, though he did have the help of a medigun. He continued his work in silence as the mer laid unconscious.

The last step was to stitch the wound and dress it. He took a suture from the pack and opened it. Next, he grabbed the medical thread and cut himself a long piece to cover the entire laceration. Threaded the needle and began his work. One stitch after the other, all the way up, until he reached the end. He tied it up and snipped it off. Lastly, he took two pieces of gauze and laid over the wound. He used medical tape to secure it in place. There. Much better.

But, now what? That dressing had to be changed at least once a day, even though the wound is closed now. He couldn't just leave them there. He wasn't even sure if they had any kind of emergency medical equipment with them or nearby. It was too risky to leave them alone. _Should...Should I take them home? I mean, I can give them proper care there, and I ain't goin' to a hospital because...well, look at 'em!_ He wasn't sure if it was morally acceptable to do what he was thinking. Then again, what did he care? But what other choice does he have? He certainly wasn't going to let them die, not while he had a say in it. That's it, that's the plan.

He picked up the bloody gauze and stuffed them in their discarded packages to be disposed of properly when he got home. He packed everything up and ran the kit back to the van. He opened the doors to the camper, and went back for the mer. 

"Man, you're probably heavy," he observed as he tried to figure out the best way to lift them without throwing his back out. A hand ran through his hair. "What did Misha say? 'Lift with legs?'" He scooped one arm under the tail, which was smooth and slippery, and one under their armpit. He gave a test lift and he barely moved him. "F-Fuck, you _are_ heavy."

It was the tail. All that meat and muscle was solid and thick. Beautiful. Colorful. Enchanting. Mick shook his head. Again. With more strength this time. He counted down and lifted with all his might. Teeth clenched shut as he managed to get the mer off the ground. "Breathe, dammit, don't forget to breathe!" Puffs of breath were forced from his mouth as he pushed himself to the limit. He grunted and snarled as he stood up from the ground. He leaned the weight of the mer on his chest so it wasn't distributed to his legs, and took quick steps back to the van.

Gulls landed in front of him, getting their pick of the shells and garbage on the ground. "Hey! Hey! Watch it there, buddy!" The gulls squawked in protest and eventually flew away when the human got too close. The van was just a few more yards. _Yes, yes, just a bit more. Jesus Christ! My fucking arms!_

He reached the van with a triumphant cry and gently placed the mer in the back. The weight was off him for now. His legs were like jelly and his arms were lighter than his body. Mick leaned back to crack his back and stretch his sore muscles, panting from exhaustion. He rotated his shoulder and dragged his feet back to the driver's side of the van. He got in and turned it on. His foot stepped on the gas to back up, and shifted to drive away.


	8. I'll Give You Shelter (7)

The ride back to his place usually took around ten minutes by car, but the swarm of the media and curious tourists flooded the area, causing a thirty-minute back-up on all main highways, which then effected the side streets of Jenson's Harbor. Mick sat in his van on the verge of plowing down every damned pedestrian that jay walked to get to the beach to see the mermaid. He was usually a patient man, laid-back and rather reluctant, but with an injured, unconscious mythical creature laying in the back, his patience was running thin with every stoplight, detour, pedestrian, biker, and police car that blocked his path. 

His fingers drummed furiously on the steering wheel as he watched the family of four cross the street. The moment they were out of the way, that last little flip-flop left the path, he spun his tires and skidded away. The family skittered to the sidewalk and looked after the van in bewilderment and alarm.

When he finally reached his house, which was a ramshackle, one-story farmhouse that was in desperate need of a paint job, he let the tension from his shoulders roll off and the tightened grip on the steering wheel eased. He bought the place with the money he earned from Mann Co., and since he grew up on a farm in New Zealand with his Ma and Pa, a farmhouse was the homiest he could find in a coastal town. This was one of Jenson's Harbor's first farms when it was established in 1868. Since farms were moving inward on land and practically going out of business, the property was one of the most difficult to sell because of how much land it entailed. In walked Mick with his pocket of hundreds of thousands, he bought it no problem. However, Mick wasn't the type to remodel and make it a work of art. He left things as they were, all the original cabinetry was there, though he had to upgrade the upholstery because that was beginning to fall apart from years of overuse and abuse from the old farm dogs. He was perfectly comfortable where he was, though Jacques always commented on how it was practically breaking just from their weight. 

The ex-sniper got out of his car and went right the camper. He opened the doors expecting to see a bloodied tail, but was utterly shocked to discover that there was no tail anymore. Instead, the creature had grown two legs in its place. They were totally naked, looked just like a human. He didn't even know that was possible! He checked to make sure they were attached to the same being that he laid in the back. The bandage was still there, on the left hip. A hand raised to his head to scratch it as he tried to figure how this could've happened. But then again, he didn't understand a thing about mythical creatures. Anything could go. 

The least he could do now is cover the poor exposed creature. Without thinking, he pulled his shirt off and used it as a blanket to cover the unconscious mer. That should do for now. One foot raised to hoist himself up into the camper, and up he went. He crouched down next them again, sliding his arms in the same position as he did at the beach: one under the knees and one under the arm. When he lifted, it was much easier to do. The weight of the tail was no more. They were (or appeared to be) as normal as a human. He hopped down, used his elbow to swing the door shut, and walked down his driveway to the backdoor. He never locked the backdoor; left it open for Tavish or Jacques. Besides, he had his stock of guns locked away in his room if it was anyone but the two.

Opening the door was a difficult feat. With his arms already full and hands holding on, he had to twist one hand around and rest the mer's legs on his forearm so he could grab the handle and pull the door. Once he passed that obstacle, he went straight to his bedroom. Stepping over old boxes he never bothered to unpack, some clothes that missed the hamper, he gently laid them down on the bed. He had to do something about their...attire. He went to his dresser and looked for something that would fit them. He was larger and taller than the mer, so any shirt would probably do. _Let's see...hmm...no, not this one. Nah. Mm-mm...oh! this one'll do._ He pulled out a large yellow shirt with bold, cerulean blue letters that read "WELLINGTON;" got it when he visited his cousins in the capital. 

Mick returned to the bedside and sat the mer up as best he could without them falling over. He stuck his hands in the shirt like it was going to put it on upside-down, raised their arms over their head, and shuffled the shirt onto their arms. Pulled their head through, passed the shoulders and let it fall over their body. It was barely long enough to cover them properly, the hem of the shirt fell right to their mid-thigh. He couldn't give them his underwear, not that he could _wear_ any, anyway. Strong arms lifted their legs so he could tuck them under the covers, and rested their head on the pillow. 

One last look before he went about his business tidying up the place for them. The upper half of the face, the eyes and hairline, it was definitely what he saw in the water. He didn't expect it to be a mer, he thought he was just seeing things. Though, it wasn't just a coincidence that they're here together, now. Mick didn't believe in a god, didn't think a higher power existed. He did believe that there are unseen forces that influence people, that somehow guide them to do what they're going to do. He wondered what they were, who they were, if this was a sign or something. It was too strange to be considered coincidental. Maybe it was just his respect for wildlife, with being raised on a farm, knowing how to help them and give them the love and care they needed to live a happy life. Maybe it was that kind of motivation. Yeah, this was just out of sympathy. 

The longer he stared at them, studied their features, lingered on their lips, their lashes, their hair, their--what was he doing!? He shook his head and rubbed his face, wiping those thoughts and images from his mind. His cheeks felt...warm. _Oh for--_ he turned on his heel and closed the door behind him, making the barrier he needed to keep away from them. What he should really be doing is the dishes that were piled in the sink. The chores were set, he went on to clean the house for his guest.

* * *

  
Warm sunlight streamed into the room as Marius stirred. His eyes fluttered open, vision blurring in and out as it came into focus. This place is not familiar. He wasn't at the beach. He was...he couldn't even put a name to wherever he was. Beams of light to the right, weird objects all around. He was even laying on top of one! Though, it was very soft. Softer than he has ever felt before. What was it? 

He tried to sit up but the waking pain on his left side caused him to yelp. Too much. He laid back down and screwed his eyes shut. _Oh Neptune below, help me now! Don't let me die here!_

The outcry was received throughout the house, and just seconds later, the stranger came into the room. Was this their prison? Had they captured him to stay there forever? No no....back on the beach, they said to him "Friend." His memory was foggy with the overlapping sensation of the pain radiating from his left hip. 

They approached him. They weren't wearing the same colors and clothes when he first met him. He didn't know humans could do that. 

"Are you alright? I heard you yelp," they said as a flit of worry passed over their face. He stayed quiet, looking them over. He wasn't sure if he could trust them just yet. The shyness was getting the best of him, too. 

They took the silence as a "no" and came to him, tenderly placing their hands on his face and checking his eyes. Blue, like the sky on a clear day, versus his turquoise irises. They let go and pulled away. 

"Looks ok there. Lemme see your bandage."

The stranger flipped the covers over and knelt by his side again. Their hands were quick and light, pulling the fabric of the shirt up to reveal a bloodied strip. They tsked. "Ah, needs to be changed. Just sit tight, I'll be right back." They got up and went to a room connected the one he was currently it. A light flicked on and he see that it was much smaller. They opened something on the wall, and a reflective piece (like the one he found as a disk) blocked their face and showed his, lying in the bed.

He looked paler than he has ever been. It was probably the loss of blood and trauma to his body. It was in the worst spot, really. Not low enough on his legs to lift up, and not even on his arms _\--LEGS??_ Did he really just see that? Below the covers? He pushed them back to see his entire body. Two legs were in place of his tail, tipped with feet that he dared to moved. A hand flew to his mouth to cover a gasp. Were these his legs? He didn't even know he had them! No wonder something felt odd! He didn't even know what to think of them right now. He couldn't even move the left one because of the wound. Trying them was out of the question. 

In all his excited bewilderment, the stranger came back with supplies in their hands. They saw the look on their face and made a comment. "Didn't know you had them, hm?"

Marius snapped his head to meet their eyes again. They looked amused and light-hearted. He shyly reflected a small smile, and shook his head.

"'S alright," they said, kneeling back down. "You coulda told me that you sprout wings and I'd believe it." He paused. "I...don't know anything about-...u-um...beings? like you."

He could say the same for humans.

They opened another package of gauze and kept a bottle of...something with them. He had no idea what it was. Marius looked nervously from the strips to the bottle. The stranger noticed.

"Aw don't worry, this won't hurt too much, not like before." Marius visibly didn't believe them. "It's alright, trust me on this-...you know, I don't know your name. What is it?"

The mer looked back at him with a blank stare. "You know, what you call yourself," they said, putting the stuff down. "Here, I'll tell you mine. My name is Mick. Mick." They enunciated the last one slowly to allow the mer to understand it. They pointed to them, looking expectantly.

"M-....Mick." 

The stranger guffawed and shook their head. "No no! Not my name. Yours." The mer didn't understand the translation. "D'you want me to guess it? Is it a common name? Let's try that. Is it....Henry?" 

He shook his head. 

"No, huh? Hmm. Daniel?"

Another shake.

"Nicholas? Bryan? Gary?" With each name they said, they pointed to him. Marius slowly realized the question.

"Uuuhh let's see what else. What about-"

"Marius."

The stranger stopped their rattling of names and looked back at him. "Marius?" They repeated back, unsure if they heard it right.

He nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"I...wouldn't have guessed that, actually. I like it." Another question popped in their head and Marius could see it was one that wasn't easily asked. They braved on anyway. "Hey um....d-...do you go by-....do you have any preferred pronouns? Y'know, like 'he/him, she/her, they/them?' I...didn't know how else to ask, but I just...wanted to be sure I call you what you are." 

He/him, she/her...he knew these words. What he refers himself to. Mers were, and unbeknownst to humans, way ahead of humans in terms of identification and evolution. What humans don't know is that there is no gender for mers. They are all genderless, and it is up to them to decide if they identify with this or that. Some go by they/them, some he/him, some she/her, some a combination of she/her and they/them, the list goes on because there are many ways they can express themselves in their identity. Their anatomy is very different from a humans. Mers are very secretive creatures, their first purpose in the world was to create more of them, to strengthen their numbers and blood. There are two body types: with breast tissue and without. Some who have breast tissue identify as he/him and there are no questions, unlike with humans. 

At first, their bodies started out different, like a human's. Two organs to separate bodies to create more life. However, over time, the "males" of the species had a hard time keeping their organs on their body because it hung like a human males, and that was a problem because when they swam too close to the floor, creatures tended to latch on and take a bite. Many mers lost them that way and making offspring became extremely limited. And with the ever-looming humans that hunted them for fame and fortune, their bodies were forced to change. Evolution played a big part in how they are today. Instead of having just one sex organ, all mers have both. A female's and a male's. The penis is hidden inside the body, in a protective slit along their underside. Not much farther below is the vagina, also seen as a slit on the underside. This change was important for them to continue breeding. This way, if one doesn't have a penis (because accidents can still happen), but their partner does, offspring are still possible! This would explain the female-presenting shape on Marius's current condition.

A mer cannot impregnate themselves, however. It still takes two to make one. But, this means that all mers can carry young, whether they have breast tissue or not. 

So Marius understands the question they were asking, better than the name one. "He." He said to finally answer them.

They nodded. "Ok, got it."

The mer pointed to them. 

"What, me? Are you asking about mine?"

He nodded. 

"Oh. I am also 'he.'" 

He nodded again. 

Mick went back to his work of changing the dressing, with Marius watching him closely. He dipped a piece of gauze in rubbing alcohol and poised it over the injury. "Just wanna warn you, this may sting a little."

Oh no. Oh no, here it comes. As the piece was pressed to his side, he hissed in response. The next part was completely new and sudden. When the damp gauze was placed on his hip, scales grew back rapidly. His legs were pulled together and melded into one limb: a tail. Mick fell back on his rear as the tail grew seemingly out nowhere, right before his eyes.

"W-What?! What the hell?" He was still trying to process what just happened, and so was Marius. "Does it just..grow back whenever it wants to? Or-...was it because of something I did?" His eyes searched Marius's for an answer, but not even _he_ knew. Was this going to happen every time he changed the bandage? That would just make it more difficult, more of an inconvenience. But Mick had no room to complain. Marius couldn't even help it, couldn't even identify what triggered such a reaction. To discover the answer, he might have to just experiment. Nothing crazy, like his old medic. 

Hmm. Well, nothing they can do now except to just continue. The marksman finished up his work and got to his feet. He took the crumbled gauze packages and bloodied bandage to the garbage and tossed them out. He washed his hands in the sink and came out with the hand towel, patting his hands dry. 

"Are you hungry?"

Marius lifted his head. What was the translation? To have hunger, right? Yes. He nodded hesitantly. He hasn't had food since early this morning. Then again, he didn't expect to live this long, so nourishment wasn't his top priority. Now that he was safe, it was something to consider and needed to be addressed. 

"I can go get something for you. You're...well, I'd assume you eat fish. Raw fish. Right?"

He listened, giving another nod to confirm Mick's assumption. 

"I'll run down to the pier to go get some. No frozen shit, that's probably fake." Mick contradicted himself because he ate that "frozen shit" when he was low on groceries. Human stomachs are warped to consume fillers, byproducts, artificial things that made all the bad stuff taste delicious and addicting. A mer's stomach would be sensitive to that. It'd probably make him sick. 

He hung the towel back up. "I'll be right back. You just stay here an' make yourself comfortable," he gestured to the bedroom. "Don't move around too much. Well, it's not like you can move pretty far anyway. Oh, what kind of fish do ya like? D'ya have a preference or somethin'?"

His favorite type of fish wasn't local to this area. Tuna, any kind really, would suffice, as it was the most tastiest in the harbor. Taking down a tuna is different story. How did he plan on getting one? Even Marius struggled to tackle it in the ocean, let alone a human. Bringing one back will surely impress him. 

"T-...Tuna." He fumbled with the word.

"Tuna? That's doable. Alright, tuna it is," he opened the door, and shouted to him as he left the room. "I'll be right back!"

Marius heard another similar sound, and then the purring of an engine; it sounded like a boat's. He was by himself, with his thoughts and aching side. He wished he had some type of medicine to put on it. He was out of his element, he didn't know what he could use. This whole environment was foreign to him. He felt the crushing weight start the suffocate him. 

_Neptune help me._


	9. Can you feel it too? (8)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Here we go folks! 
> 
> A side note: I'm coming up with an au to this au, and it's currently taking over my mind; so in the future, expect another story.)

Mick had barely left for twenty minutes when he returned home with the slabs of fish tucked away in the bags from the market. He grabbed a clean dish from the dish rack and placed the meat on so Marius had something to eat off of, though he wasn't sure if mers used dishware at all. He brought the food to the bedroom but nearly dropped it when he found Marius crumpled on the floor, sniffling. The legs were back. He must've tried to walk. Mick put the plate on his dresser and ran to him. 

"Hey hey, what happened? I thought you were gonna stay put," he asked with a light-hearted to tone so that the mer didn't feel bad for doing what he did. "'S alright. Up we go." He lifted him back onto the bed with great care. "Lemme see the bandage. The wound may have started to bleed again."

The latter said nothing, continuing to sniffle and wipe the tears from his eyes. Sure enough, the movement caused it to bleed again. "Damn, just as I thought. No worries, that's normal. At least, from what Doc told me." He didn't expect Marius to know who "Doc" was, just light commentary and thoughts to himself. 

He went into the bathroom again and grabbed the supplies, this time without the bottle of rubbing alcohol. He returned and sat on the bed with Marius. Gently, he guided him to lay on his side, so that he could lay comfortably and so the injury was in better reach. He lifted the shirt again, and removed the soaked dressing. Quickly and deftly, he pressed a clean pad to the wound, which earned a whimper from the mer. 

"I know, I know," he let up a little. "Do you want some medicine? To stop the pain?"

Marius looked at him through bleary tears. 

"Medicine. 'No hurt.'" He used the familiar phrase that he hoped the mer understood. 

It worked because he saw him blink and watched his face recognize the phrase. He nodded vigorously. 

"Alright, I'll give you some medicine after you eat. You need to have food in your stomach to take it."

After he was done, he lowered the shirt and sat him upright again. The soiled bandage was tossed, his hands were washed, and he brought the plate over to him. Marius was confused. He said "tuna" right? He was expecting a large, flopping fish. He wasn't disappointed, oh no, he was happy and grateful for whatever he gave him. There was just a misunderstanding. Humans must've ate fish in pieces and instead of wholes. Mers ate the whole thing because they didn't know when they're going to find food next. Humans apparently don't have that problem. 

He graciously took the plate and sniffed it. Yep, smells like tuna. He laid it on his lap. His nail plucked at the dish as he tried to pick it up with such long claws. No matter, he was still able to grab it. Teeth sank into the fleshy meal and his eyes fluttered shut. Oh so good! Yes, this'll do just fine.

Mick tried not to awkwardly watch the other eat. Water. The beverage popped in his head. He needed water! He was probably so dehydrated and thirsty. He forgot that water is so very important when tending to sick and injured people. He mentally slapped himself. He stood from the bed and went into the kitchen to fill a glass of water from the tap. He was back in seconds and placed the water on the nightstand. Again, the mer looked at it in confusion. 

Was that....water? Being contained? The only water he knew of was always around him. He didn't know water could be held in something. What was this for? He looked at Mick for an answer.

"Drink," he made the motion of holding a glass up to his lips and drinking the contents. 

Marius put the piece of fish down and shakily reached out for the glass. He expected it to be light, but discovered he was wrong; it took a little more to lift it. He held it with both hands, and glanced at Mick again, who repeated the gestured. He put his lips to the rim, lifted it so water came down to meet them, and suck it in. 

Mick probably didn't expect him to make a face of disgust as he swallowed the water. He let out a laugh. "What's the matter? It's just water, I swear!" 

The mer didn't know how to describe it. It wasn't anything like the water that he breathed, it was...flat, plain. What he needed was salt. Lots of it. But he didn't know that it was its own separate element. He put the glass down, smacking his lips as if to figure what it was that was missing.

The marksman, on the other hand, had no idea what was wrong. It was just water. He lived in it, chrissake, what was so different about--a light bulb went off. He needed ocean water, saltwater. This was just plain old tap water. The mer was used to sea water, not drinking water. Mick snapped his fingers, and leapt from the bed, shouting a "Hold on!" as he ran into the kitchen. He rummaged through his cupboards looking for salt. Table salt. The big container. Ah! 

He pushed the basil and dried parsley aside and plucked the cylinder from its hiding place. He read it make sure it was right thing. He tossed it up in the air as an affirmative "yep" and joined Marius in the bedroom. He sat down on the bed, holding the container up.

A chewed fingernail pointed to the mineral. "Salt! That's what you need, because you're from the ocean. Here, gimme your glass." He held out his hand for him to pass the water to him. 

Marius complied and gave it to him. Mick poured a little and swirled it around, careful not to spill any. He handed it back to Marius to try it. 

"Taste it."

The mer took a sip. Still not right, but it was closer to his natural habitat than the tap water. "More," he said.

"More? Ok, here." He poured another helping. Another sip, and another shake.

"More."

"Still? Wow, I didn't realize how salty the ocean is." This time, Mick dumped the equivalence of two hand-fulls instead of little increments. One more test by the mer, and he nodded.

"Good!" A triumphant smile claimed his lips.

Mick mimicked the grin and felt his cheeks heat up. That smile, it was so beautiful. He looked so much better when he did, he'd rather see him smile than cry. He wondered if he could make him do it again. 

"Oh right, medicine." He almost forgot. He caught up in that infectious smile of his. The ex-sniper went into the bathroom, and into the medicine chest. Two bottles of pills were available to choose from: acetaminophen and ibuprofen. In his experience, the ibuprofen worked much faster and better than the other, but it was harsher on the stomach. Normally, he'd refer anyone to use that one, but this being has probably never taken medicine of any kind like this. He chose the acetaminophen just to be safe. He would be the one in control of the meds, for he didn't trust the mer to understand the idea of taking human drugs. 

He sat back down and opened the bottle. He smacked the opening against his hand so that a few pills fell into his palm. Whoops, three too many. He plopped them back in and closed the lid.

Putting one pill between his fingers, he put one up to his mouth, and made the motion of swallowing. He dragged the pill down his chin, down his throat, and to his stomach. "You swallow these whole. No chew." He gnashed his teeth and waved his finger. 

The marksman put the pills in Marius's hand, and pointed to the water. The mer hoped he understood right. He put one in his mouth and tried to swallow it, but he coughed on it. Then water? Mick gave him the glass and urged him to drink. He tried it, and the pill went down easier, which stopped his choking. His eyes widened. 

"Oooh!" He exclaimed. 

Mick smiled back at him, glad that he understood and was no longer hacking on a pill. "Again."

Marius repeated the action with the better method and it went down easy again. The latter let out a sigh while he put his glass back on the nightstand. 

The night was still young. It was only 6:27 pm. The late sun's rays warmed the room. Well, now what? Getting to know him sounded like a good idea. After all, he was taking care of him, and he was sleeping in his bed (he'd be taking the couch now). 

A cough sounded from Mick's throat and he spoke. "S-So..um...where are ya from? Like, your home?"

Home. Marius hasn't been home in a long time. He didn't really have a home. He meandered the waters, following wherever the current takes him, leading him to animals in need of medical attention. He noticed this place's surge in seals caught in fishing gear, so he stayed for as long as he needed. He wasn't quite sure how long that will be. If he was going to tell him where he's from, the truth was:

"Atlantis."

Mick's jaw dropped slightly, but he recoiled with a look of skepticism. "Nah, you're bullshittin.'"

The mer's eyes shifted to the right and to the left, clearly unaware of what that means. He just shook his head. 

"You're really from a place called 'Atlantis?'"

"Mhm."

"Huh. I thought the place was just a fairytale. A story. Somethin' a Greek bloke wrote about." He cast him one last look of disbelief, then his brows raised and so did his hands. "Hey, who am I to judge? I didn't you were real." A beat of silence. "So what's it like?"

"What...is it?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"It....is big," he outstretched his arms as if to encompass the entirety of the underwater city to map out its size. "It is hide. H-Hidden?"

The interested ex-sniper nodded.

"Human...language.....is not my first. I-...I speak Atlantean."

"That's alright, you're doin' fine. I can understand well enough to get the gist of it. What does it sound like? Say somethin' in your language." While that demand may have sounded offensive, he didn't mean it to be. He was honestly curious like a little kid learning about space or dinosaurs. Mick had always been into cryptids and cryptozoology, but he always drew a line between fiction and fact. Now, the line was completely blurred, and he realized he knew nothing about mers at all. Just the basic info like some are sirens, some are hideous, some are beautiful, etc. etc.

Marius was shy to speak in his native tongue. He had never said anything to a human before, he wasn't sure what they'd think of it. _"It sounds like this. I'm very fluent in it, but not so well in human English."_

Now Mick's jaw dropped all the way. It sounded almost guttural, a lot of gurgling in the throat and rolling of the tongue. Marius's voice was definitely higher than Mick's, so it sounded higher pitched. He smiled, goosebumps raising the hairs on his body. "Say something else."

_"My name is Marius. It's nice to meet you."_

An excited giggle came from the other. "That's so-...that's so cool! Aw man, I'm soundin' like Jeremy. Again, something else."

Marius's voice became more hushed, and his eyes more timid. Mick caught the redness of his cheeks as he spoke again. _"I like you."_

The room suddenly became hotter, the air between them heavier. Mick's smile faded as he gazed into the mer's eyes. "More."

 _"I was scared, at first. But you have shown me kindness. You make me feel...tingly."_ He crossed his arms to lay his hands over the opposite arm, and drummed his fingers on his skin, to represent the zinging sensation in his body. Their eyes were locked with each other's. The room fell away, the outside noises of the world passing by were blocked by Marius's sweet voice. Mick pressed on.

"And another."

 _"I want to know you. Kiss you."_ He touched his lips with two fingers, and pulled them away.

Mick felt a tightness in his pants that he hadn't experienced in years with another person. He never thought he could feel this way about someone ever again. Not after his last relationship which ended in chaos. He was so sure that no one could ever ignite that flame again, after the last one put it out. It smoldered for years, weak and dying before it finally went out. And now, with Marius here with him, this beautiful, mysterious creature that he saved, the flame burst into a roaring fire. He felt giddy, unsure, scared, excited. Was this love? Or was this lust? To tell the difference between them is difficult. Lust _can_ turn into love, but love is strong on its own. It doesn't need sex. To base a relationship on only lust, it was bound to fall apart because that feeling can just go away. And then, they're left with an empty shell for the sake of that addicting feeling. If he had to choose between the two, he'd pick love, as much as he liked a good shag now and then.

He didn't want that to come between them. Marius was, seemingly, too innocent to be tossed around like a ragdoll. He didn't want him to become just another body he slept with. He felt something in him bloom, like a rose just starting to bud. It would be slow, but the passion of the fire was there. The thought shook him to his core.

As much as he wanted to get closer, Mick squeezed his eyes shut, breaking the connection. Marius snapped out of it, and immediately averted his gaze. Now's not the time for silly romance, the poor mer was nearly crippled. His health and well-being came first, and he silently vowed to nurse him back to health. Maybe then will Marius have something in return, an answer, a promise.

As of now, he cannot say, but he knew the mer felt something too. He saw it in his eyes, the way he spoke to him, his body language. 

"I....think that's enough for now," Mick practically gasped as the strong feeling loosened its grip. "I'll let you rest. Are....you finished?" He pointed to the dish with the mostly-eaten fish.

Marius followed his finger to the meal and he nodded silently. He handed him the plate. 

"If you need me, I'll be inside. Just...give a holler. Or yell." He stood from the bed, walked to the door, and turned to close it behind him. He took a deep breath and carried the plate to the kitchen.

* * *

  
Bedtime rolled around and before Marius went to sleep, Mick came in to tell him something important. Something about the bathroom.

"If you need to...y'know, relieve yourself in the middle of the night, the bathroom," he pointed to it over his shoulder. "Is right there. Do....you understand?"

Marius hesitated to shake his head, seeing as how uncomfortable it made Mick to talk about...well, whatever he was trying to say.

"You probably don't know what a bathroom is," he placed his hands on his hips. "Here, uuhh....if you-...if you feel like doing this," he gestured his hands as if something was flowing between his legs. "That feeling, if you feel that, it goes," he paused and went into the bathroom, flipped the light on, and pointed to the toilet. "In here. After you do your business, you flush it with this handle, then you wash your hands, like this." He turned the faucet on, pumped some soap into his hands, rubbed them together until they formed bubbles, and ran them under the water until the bubbles were gone. Then he wiped his hands on the towel to dry them. "See?"

The mer still was quite sure he understood what the point of that room was for, but something about flowing from your legs goes into that seat thing, press that doohickey, and then put water on your hands. He slowly nodded. 

"Ok then. Good. I'll leave the little light on for you so you're not in complete darkness. Probably be scary for your first night here, hm?" He went to the nightstand, and clicked it three times until the light was dim. 

"Ya have your glass of water?"

"Mhm!"

"Alright. I'll be out here, sleeping on the couch. If you need me for anything, pills, bandage, food, get comfier, whatever, come get me. Ok?"

"O-...k." Marius repeated the word back to him.

"Eheh. I'll let you get some sleep. Pleasant dreams, Marius."

The mer waved at him like he was saying goodbye, but he knew it was only until the next morning. Mick chuckled to himself, and shut the door.

Marius settled down into the sheets. This was nothing like he was used to, but it was much nicer than sleeping in a ditch of sand below the waves. He did miss the sound of the ocean. His home. Perhaps sleeping would be harder than he thought. He was out of his element. A funny feeling settled in the pit of his gut. It was a horrible feeling, this feeling of being lost. It frightened him. He began to shake, his nerves took over his entire body. He cried, yearning for the familiar seas. He was scared. He knew he wasn't in any danger, so why was he afraid? It was probably the sudden change of environment. But this was silly! He slept in all kinds of places, some stranger than the other. So why was this any different? Marius rattled his brain for answers, but all he could receive was more shivers from his body. He would eventually tire himself out from shaking so hard, and fell asleep in the puddle of tears on his pillow.


	10. Stay (9)

Morning rolled around lazily, lighting the east side of the house, opposite of Marius's room. Mick was up and about his normal routine, making coffee, going out and picking up today's papers, deciding what he wants for breakfast. Around mid-morning, about nine or so, he checked in on Marius. The mer was up, but he looked exhausted.

He found out that he only slept for a few hours, and during those hours, he had an accident in the bed. Mick re-explained the importance of a toilet with patience and reassurance, but it was only then did Marius understand the importance of the washroom.

The sheets had to be changed and the mattress sanitized. He wasn't mad at all. This was easier than training a toddler (though he wouldn't know) because Marius was an adult. He understood things quicker than a child, and he didn't have to break a habit of using a diaper to go to the bathroom. The mer apologized profusely, to which the ex-sniper just waved dismissively.

"No worries, mate. You didn't know. It happens sometimes, 's no big deal. I ain't judgin'.'" He gave him pleasant smile to ease Marius's thoughts and feelings. "What do you want for breakfast?" He hoped the change of subject would help.

Admittedly, Marius wanted to sleep some more, but the importance of breakfast weighed on his mind. "More...tuna?"

"Yup, I got more of that. I made sure to get multiple pieces because...well, quartering a tuna isn't easy, and I dunno how to do it. Plus, I don't have a fridge big enough to fit one. You just get back into bed, and I'll getcha some fish."

Marius nodded absently and clambered back into bed. He heard movement inside, glass clinking, a door opening and closing, water running. Mick was back with another plate in minutes, and a glass of very salty water. He handed them to the mer.

He ate in silence, his eyes lidded and heavy from sleepiness and crying. The tuna wasn't as fresh as yesterday. He didn't know food could be stored longer than a day with humans. Mers have nothing like food preservers, everything was fresh or it'd rot or get stolen. He downed his glass of water and placed it back on the nightstand. Without saying a thing, Mick took it and brought back more.

"I need you to drink plenty of fluids. You're....not in the water anymore. You need to keep drinking to keep yourself healthy." He was sounding like Doc.

He said nothing.

Mick noticed the heaviness of his eyes, that sad look which tugged at his heartstrings. He was hesitant to ask. "You didn't sleep well, did ya?"

He saw him visibly tense and flick his eyes to his own, and back to the wall ahead of him. He shook his head.

"Is it the room?" He looked around as if looking for the culprit that costed the mer's sleep.

"Yes-...No. It's.....very nice, but...not familiar to it."

The marksman nodded. He understood that. While he personally had no problem sleeping anywhere, he couldn't imagine how scary this must all be to him. He was used to the sounds of the ocean, of the bustle of the docks. Out here, it was quiet, save for a few cars that passed on the street.

He had an idea that might help. "Would-...Wouldja like me to stay with you? Give ya some company so you're...ya know, not alone?"

The soft suggestion caught him unaware, and his heart ached for the sympathy and kindness of his new friend. He was willing to stay with him. Marius was ready to cry again from the thoughtfulness of Mick. It had been years since he had any kind of companion, years since he felt something for someone. The last time he experienced these emotions were a few years ago with his previous relationship. But things didn't go well. His partner loved him more than Marius could return those feelings. Mick, however, stirred them up again, and they were _strong._ He was beside himself.

Marius couldn't say anything except nod, the lump in his throat making it too difficult to speak. There were a plethora of things he could say to him, but it was too soon. If it was one thing he was good at, it was rushing into things, which sometimes got him in trouble. For once, he didn't want to ruin it. He wanted everything to play out as it will.

He finished the rest of his meal, placing his water on top of the empty dish on the nightstand. Mick came around on the other side of the bed and climbed on.

"You jus' get nice and comfy. Don't worry, I'll stay over here."

He tucked his legs under the covers, careful to avoid irritating the stitches. Mick even tossed the blankets over him to finalize the position in which it laid in.

"There we go. Comfortable?"

"Mhm."

"Good. Get some sleep, now. I've got me papers to keep me busy," he held the newspapers in his hand. "And if you need me, I'm right here."

Pink dusted the mer's cheeks. He was right there. He wanted to reach out and grab his hand, hold it while he slept, but something held him back. It was the will to let things be, though he was second-guessing its longevity. He doesn't think it'll last much longer before he rushes into it.

As Marius settled in, and faced Mick, who opened his paper and read today's trending story of the mermaid caught on the docks, he couldn't help but crack a small smile. Here he was, sitting next to him as he attempted to sleep. The one who caught his eyes in the water, that handsome face, put everything aside to help him. He felt blessed, unbelievably lucky. He felt his heart swell in adoration. He wanted to hold him, be held by him, his touch-starved body screamed for the attention. He wanted to be with him, in this structure. He was willing to give up the sea to stay with him, even if it meant dying. He was falling head-over-heels, and he was falling alarmingly fast. He wanted to kiss those lips, run his fingers through his hair, feel his body against his, wanted to explore every inch of his body and soul. This was a like fever dream that he never wanted to wake up from. He wanted to make him happy, thank him for all that has done and what he will do, express the love that he feels for him--

There it is. Love. The word was so foreign, so alien to him. His parents never showed him any, his ex gave him too much, but it was he who was gushing with love. He expected to be as cold as his parents, but he'd rather kill himself than become something devoid of respect and love. This human, this man, has awakened a part of his soul that Marius was yearning to find. He was skeptical at first, but he was glad he was wrong. In fact, he was grateful for the rude awakening. This was something that needed to be done, needed to be told, to be discovered, and he was so happy, so glad that it was Mick who did it. It's no wonder he couldn't find someone for him in the ocean, he was outside of it the whole time.

These wonderful thoughts filled his head, his eyes drooping as he continued to watch him. He felt better, now that Mick was here. Slowly they closed, and in less than 30 minutes, Marius drifted off to sleep.

* * *

  
It was about one in the afternoon when he woke up from his nap. Out of the grogginess of his eyes, he didn't see Mick sitting next to him. The absence of him struck a sadness in him. Where did he go? He said he was going to stay right here. Marius rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up. He shouldn't be sad. Mick probably had more important things to do than to stick around while he slept. Come to think of it, he sounded possessive and ridiculous.

The door clicked open, pulling him from his thoughts. In walked mick with another plate of fish, and a refilled glass of water.

"Oh good, you're up. I was gonna wake you if you were still asleep. I gotcha some lunch," he placed the dish on the nightstand, followed by the water. "I ran out and got some more. Tuna is nice 'n all, but it can get boring after a few meals. I hope you like...uuhh...damn, what was it? I think the bloke said it was a 'yellowtail snapper?'"

The sight of Mick walking in with more food sent a wave of relief that he was wrong. While he was sleeping, he went out and got more fish for him, and of a different variety. Marius smiled unconsciously.

And he brought him snapper! He loved snapper! The marksman surely didn't know that. His heart was bursting with love. He wanted to do...something. To show him his gratitude. What was it that humans do? He watched so many of them do it, and it was for various reasons. They embraced each other. Whether they were meeting each other, parting, or just being with the other, they hugged. Maybe this was appropriate for one?

Marius beckoned him to the bedside, motioned for him to come closer. When he was just the right distance, he snaked his hands up around his neck and pulled him down for a hug. His smile was wide, cheeks puffed and pink.

Mick was completely surprised by the gesture. He thought he was going to tell him something, but his arms wrapped around his neck and brought their bodies closer together, Mick nearly shuddered. He felt Marius shudder too. They don't realize that they've been touch-starved for a long time. This intimate contact lit their nerves like sparks, and the ex-sniper found himself welcoming these sensations. He hugged back.

The mer's heart leapt as the other returned the hug. Now he didn't want to let go. He wanted Mick to stay with him again.

"Thank....you," he finally uttered out. "F-For everything."

A beat, allowing Mick to take in the words he just breathed. "O-Oh...uh...no worries." He gave Marius one final pat on the back, and they let go of each other.

The latter's hand slid down his arm. He was about to pull away when his hand gripped at his wrist. Mick looked from his hand to his face. He looked so vulnerable, so inviting.

"S-...Stay."

The marksman blinked absently. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? Did he really want him to stay? He couldn't answer for himself, but when he looked into Marius's pleading eyes, all doubt was out the window. Without breaking contact, though his gaze softened, he nodded.

"Ok. I'll stay."

He went around to the other side of the bed again, and climbed on. Marius scooted closer, with what limited movement he could do.

They settled in their spots. Mick was the first to speak. "So I know a little bit about you. I-...Lemme tell you a little bit about me. 'S only fair, and it's not we're strangers anymore."

The mer's eyes grew wide with interest. He nodded, as if to say "go on."

He chuckled lightly. "Alright. Where to start? Well, guess I could start from the beginning," he waited for a sign of protest or refusal. Nothing, only smiles and glittering eyes. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the headboard. "I'm from a place called New Zealand. Explains why I talk a little funny compared to the others 'round here. Grew up on a farm with me parents. Pa was a little strict, but he had a good heart. Ma was a saint. Always was known as the 'sweet little old lady' in town. We lived on a farm, a dairy one. Ma always said she was against killin' them, the animals. We raised lots of animals. Chickens, goats, cows, ducks, sheep, geese, pigs, horses. We only had pigs because 'a me. My first pet was a pot belly pig. Name was....Ellie. Grew up to be a big, healthy, spunky gal.

"We were happy on our cozy farm. Good memories there," Mick's face fell as he remembered what stopped their happiness. "Wasn't easy running a farm. Corporations kept wanting to buy our land. Pa said he'd rather run them off our property and be called a lunatic than to negotiate with them. As I got older, things changed. The amount of money that went into upkeep of the farm....it was just gettin' too expensive. We....had to sell our animals to keep living there. I kept a few chickens and Ellie. They'd have had to pry her from me cold, dead hands before I'd ever give 'er up.

"Money got tight. Wasn't a good time for all of us. I was about 42 when I saw an ad for a job listing in the papers. Place called Gullywash in Australia were lookin' to hire a sharp shooter. Didn't know what for, but I always liked the idea of shootin' some arrows or somethin'. Said if need be, they'd train me. That's what they had to do. I reached out to 'em, hired me, taught me how to shoot a bow and gun, and that's my start of Mann Co.

"I'm...not legally allowed to tell ya what I was hired for, but I can say that it paid real good. I...don't want you to think any less of me. It...wasn't a...a happy job. Granted, I made some friends, but we went through some shit. Lots of...death. Over stupid, pointless shit, really. But I was so depressed back then, with losing our farm, and fighting the execs for the land, I didn't care. I just wanted to make enough money to send it back home to me parents. Now, my home is doing just fine, only it's empty. Me parents...well, they....passed."

Marius heard the pain in his voice, as he struggled to speak. He too was quiet, a lump in his throat blocked his voice.

"I had to give Ellie away, I couldn't take her with me. The chickens...I dunno what happened to 'em. F-Funny little blokes and sheilas, they were. The last part of my childhood, of my happy memories....are gone." His brows knitted together, fighting off the waviness of his voice. "All that I knew, all that was me, is lost."

"I can't really complain too much," he sniffled, wiping a tear that threatened to fall. "I met me good friends Jacques and Tavish. They're a duo, those two. We always get into crazy shit, though that's mostly Tavish's fault. I don't know what I'd do without them. They keep me grounded when I just...I close myself off. But...you know something? I feel that way with you. I feel...I feel like I wanna be a better person. I mean, hell, I'm doing things for you that I thought I'd never do. Never thought I'd be taking care of someone. Maybe...Maybe, it's-...nah, nah." The sniper brushed off the truth. It was too soon. Marius was hanging on to every word that he said, and when he thought he was going to hear what he wanted to, he shrunk back.

He wanted to say he was hurt, disappointed. But he had no right to. Nothing was established. They were going off of feelings, which were never facts. Though it pained him to gulp it down, he understood where the ex-sniper was coming from. Everything that he knew about himself, about his culture, was gone.

"I...understand you," Marius started, uncertainty of word usage wavering his tone. "I do not have home. Left home. Cannot go back."

Mick sat up and looked at Marius with a perplexed brow. "Why?"

"I...am a disgrace...to my people. I am afraid of my culture’s marriage. We do ritual. Blood ritual. We are binded--binded? No--...um...bound to our partner. It does not matter if we love each other or not. This pact is made to promise reproduction. So even if I fled, the effects of the ritual….w-would have harmed me. Bring horrible pain. I could not leave my spouse if I….went through it. I couldn’t. I was too scared. I--It’s too horrible. I didn’t want...I didn’t want to be harmed, I didn’t want to marry her. But my parents...are not like your parents," an ironic, sad chuckle. "They...saw me as pop-...property. Marius, do this. Marius, do this. Marius, say this, that. Don't do this, don't say that. Wanted control of my life. But...I did not want their control. I wanted my own. Didn't want to be healer for mers, wanted to help fellow...in-...inhabit--....-tants."

"Whoa, wait, blood ritual? What--and they tried ta force you into marriage? Isn't that some kind of barbaric shit?" Mick was still stuck on the arranged marriage portion.

"Told me to obey. But I was ill of it. N-No. Sick of it. I fought for my freedom, begged not to marry. They would not listen. My last....thought of them...is when I almost killed my father," Marius's eyes glazed over and he stared angrily at the creases in the sheets. "I demanded my freedom. Tried to break myself from them. Did not understand me seriously. They laughed at my demands. That's....when I attacked him.

"I knew...I was never going back. After my proposal, I left and...vowed to never return. Threatened them to never find me, or....I will kill them. I-I....I....hate them," Tears rolled down his cheeks and stung his eyes. "They....did not love me. And I promised....to never become them. I...I-I could never.....forgive them f-for...the pain...that pain that they...have d-done t-t-...to me." He wiped at his tears, fighting back a sob.

"I-I have lived.....alone....for s-so....many years. My....friends are animals. B-Because no matter who I am....who I love......they s-s-still loved me back. A-And now....n-n-now you-" he was cut off from a sob. "You have shown me....s-s-such kindness....more k-k-kindness than my own people. I-I...I-I-I.......j-just wanted to thank you."

The latter listened quietly, intensely. His heart constricted in grief for this poor creature. A life of hardship, devoid of love, lack of interaction with his own species, it can break one. Mick was glad he was still around, that he was sitting in his room, with him. He wanted to reach out and just....take his hand. No. He wanted to hold him, wrap his arms around him and soothe his aching soul.

Yet he stayed still, arms still folded over his chest. It'd probably be best if he just gives the mer his space. They were quiet for a while, save for the sniffling. Then, it was Marius that broke the silence.

"It...It is not all lost. Even though I have been alone....been alone for a long time, I...I was able to help marine life that were...s-sick and injured. I had....an octopus friend," he smiled fondly as he remembered how much the cephalopod meant to him. "I named him 'Aristotle,' a name I found....o-on many of the boats that I came across. Best 3 years I ever had."

He paused for a beat. "It is funny. I had more joy with an octopus than when I lived with my people. He was such...He was such a good boy." Marius glanced up at Mick, who had the look of a shocked bystander as he listened to Marius reminisce about his life.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm still caught up in the fact that you had an octopus as a pet?"

He chuckled lightly. "Yes-..Well, I would not call him a 'pet,' but as a traveling companion. He was like my guardian, and I, his."

"But....they're poisonous, aren't they? Don't they emit...I don't know, toxins from their bodies? I mean, the blue-ringed, which is native to my side of the pond, is a dangerous creature. Divers are not to touch it because of how deadly that thing is."

"Oh. That is not the same for us mers. Our bodies can withstand most toxins. If we are injured with an open wound, and....a poison creature injects its poison into our bodies, then we will die. We cannot eat these creatures who have poison. But we can be friends with them, if they let us."

"Wow, that's....that's really somethin'. So then, all these animals and mammals and sh-....stuff, I'm guessin' we had something to do with their maladies?"

"'Maladies?' I do not understand that word."

Mick unfolded his arms, and scratched his temple, looking for synonyms to describe it. "Uuuh, like....injuries, illnesses, defects."

"Oh. Some, yes. Some, no. The work that I have done here, in this harbor.....you humans lose fishnets very easily. I have lost count with how many seals and seagulls and turtles I have freed."

The sniper shied from the statement. Though he personally wasn't responsible for his irresponsible brethren, he did feel terrible. He knows about the pollution, the damage done by humans, irreversible it is, how cruel they can be. Mick wished he could sometimes snipe the assholes in the articles he reads about the latest seismic airgun tests greenlit by oil CEOs. He wished he could let a bunch of piranhas loose into their giant pools on their expensive, private estates.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Y-....Yeah. We really have no regards for wildlife."

Marius's eyes widened angrily and he leaned forward towards him. "No! You are wrong! Do not compare yourself to those-...those-....those planktons! _You_ are not like them! You-...You care for us. You keep us safe. I-....I have seen you." His voiced quieted, and the outrage calmed inside of him. "On the rocks. You were by yourself. I was there."

He thought back to a day where he had recently gone. His brows raised. "You were there?"

Marius's cheeks burned red. "Yes. I watched you."

The latter said nothing, though his mouth parted, brows now uneven in perplexity.

"There....There was something that walked across your feet. I heard you say it. You...lifted it and placed it back in the water. It was something so small, so helpless, that you could have thrown, kicked, crushed. But you did not. Do you know how many marine creatures are killed by your kind because they are afraid of it? Do you know how many sharks are killed because humans like to play in their nesting waters? You helped something that others would have crushed. You are.....You are of the humans that are good. There are few. _You_ are reason why I cannot hate all humans."

It was Mick's turn to blush. His heart flipped in his chest. Out of everyone on this whole damn planet, this....this ethereal being chose him. Chose him as a beacon of light in these dark times for the earth's environment. He felt honored, even special. He hoped there was some other meaning to "choosing him."

"W-Well, uh, I mean-....I'm not the greatest bloke. B-But....I'm glad I helped you." A shy grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. He coughed and swallowed, changing the subject. "You should uh, probably eat. Can't let it sit for too long."

Marius was reminded of the fish he brought in. He looked at it over his shoulder, and turned his body to take it off of the nightstand. "Ah, y-yes, I-...I almost forgot about it. Thank you. Again." He took a bite.

They both sat in silence as he ate, desperately wanting to get closer. Fear of rejection and misunderstanding prevented them from doing so. They, instead, enjoyed each other's company.


	11. With Friends Like These (10)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Huzzah! I'm early today!)

This was becoming the new norm. Mick had pushed aside all responsibilities and tended to Marius day in and day out. He never once complained, and Marius's ever-grateful attitude never changed. The pull of attraction was so thick in the air, they practically pined for each other. Marius was falling for Mick harder and harder with each passing hour. Mick found that, after trying to push down his feelings for their own well-being, it was incredibly difficult, and let his heart be.

Their new routine was that at some point in the day, when Mick wasn't busy with chores since he neglected them before he met Marius, he would sit with the mer and talk and talk. They learned a lot about each other, some little quirks and ticks that melted their hearts. If his friends had seen him now, they'd think he was a completely different person. A stranger, perhaps. In fact, it had been days since he last saw them. Possibly a week to two weeks.

Fate heard him and sent them knocking on his door. Mick was in the middle of changing Marius's dressing when he went stiff and rigid. The mer noticed the change of expression and emotion.

"What...What is it?"

Mick looked over his shoulder to doorway. "Shit."

"What is wrong?"

"U-Uh...Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I'll go see who it is. Just...whatever you, don't leave this room." He stood from the floor and bolted out of the room, leaving a very confused Marius.

 _Tavish, with his damn "shave and a haircut" knock. Fuck, what am I gonna tell them?_ Mick mulled over his thoughts as he made his way to the back door of the house, in the kitchen. Two silhouettes behind the screen door stood, waiting for an answer. He slowed as he approached the door, giving himself a deep breath to prepare himself for a shitload of questions. He opened the door, and swung the screen open.

"Mick, ya bloody git! Thank the stars yer alright!" Tavish nearly burst as soon as he saw his friend's face. "Where the hell have ya been? You haven't gone mad, have ye? Sittin' in a crow's nest for years can do that to ya."

"No, I-"

"And for god's sake, don't disappear like that again! Nearly gave me a damned heart attack! I thought you wiped yerself off the face 'o the earth. Now, are ya gonna let us in or what?" A smirk brandished the ex-demo's face.

"Oh, uh...right. Yeah, come on in." He held the doors open so that they could step through. Tavish stepped through first, followed by Jacques, who extinguished his cigarette before he entered.

Jacques was the first to speak after they all congregated in the kitchen. "I brought a bottle of wine, since you've decided to neglect our weekly get-together at the bar." He held out the bagged bottle, which was received by Mick.

"Ah jeez, ya didn't have to do that. I was gonna come back, I swear, I just....got busy with something."

"What could possibly be so important nowadays? I thought you said you didn't want to do anything anymore." Jacques took a seat at the small kitchen table, while Tavish leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.

This is the part that he was dreading. Should he just tell them the truth? Or should he lie about it? How could he tell them "I'm taking care of a mermaid" without sounding like he has gone off the deep end? Though Tavish would likely believe it. Most importantly, would it hurt Marius?

"I had to tie up some....loose ends." He said with a straight face.

"I don't buy that one bit. I was trained to infiltrate enemy lines, I know how to lie and make it sound convincing. That was not convincing." The ex-spy leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and folding his arms as well. His eyes were full of scrutiny and disbelief.

It was true, there was no fooling an ex-spy. Damn, he thought that would've went smoother. He tapped his index finger on the bottle, going back to the question of should he or shouldn't he.  
He opened his mouth to say something, but a voice other than his own was heard. It wasn't Tavish's, not Jacques. It came from his bedroom, the back of the house. It called out to Mick. It was high, almost feminine. Definitely no one the boys knew. Tavish looked at him devilishly while Jacques gave an amused smirk.

"Thought you could fool us, huh, bushman?" The Frenchman remarked.

Mick was at a loss of words for an explanation. There was no hiding him now. He glared at Jacques. "Shut up, spook." He hastily put the bottle down on the table and rushed to the back. The ex-spy looked at his watch, pressed a button, and held a finger up to his lips to keep Tavish from saying a word. In seconds, he disappeared before his eyes. The chair pushed out, and light footsteps tiptoed to the back. Through a cracked door, he spied and eavesdropped.

"-t did not want to stick."

"I'll fix that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to abandon you, especially while I was in the middle of fixin' you up again."

Jacques pressed himself closer to the wall and pushed the door open just a tad more.

"Who...Are there more humans?" Marius practically looked right at the hidden figure through the doorway.

"U-Uh....Yeah. They're in the kitchen. They're my friends. Don't worry, I won't let them come in here-"

"Can I meet them?"

A beat of silence, they were both hanging on for Mick's words. "You.....want to meet them?"

He nodded.

"I uh, I suppose so. But...you gotta put on some pants first."

"Why? I like the way I look."

Mick rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushed slightly. "B-Because humans....we uh...we don't-....we like to wear more clothing, not just shirts. It's...not really accepted to walk around with your business out in the open."

"'Business?'"

"I'll explain later. Here, lemme help you."

Jacques looked back down at his watch. The meter was running out, his invisibility would wear off once it depletes. He snuck back into the kitchen, right to his spot at the table. He appeared and Tavish nearly jumped on him with questions. The Frenchman only winked.

Moments later, Mick rejoined them, along with his guest. He was wearing another one of Mick's shirts, and a pair of his baggy sweatpants that didn't quite fit him as well as the shirt. The drawstring was pulled as tight as it can be.

All eyes were on the newest face.

"Tavish, Jacques, this is Marius, a....friend of mine," he started lightly. "Marius, these are my good friends. That's Tavish by the sink, and Jacques at the table."

The mer's eyes followed the two figures as Mick pointed them out. He gave them a small, timid smile, accompanied with a tiny wave. "Hello."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Jacques gave a curt nod.

"Likewise." Tavish echoed.

Awkward silence fell over them, none of them knew what to say, yet there was one question that they both want to ask.

"Ahem," the Frenchman cleared his throat, breaking the pregnant silence. "So, Marius. How is it that you know Mick?"

Marius fiddled with the hem of his shirt, unsure of what to say. He wasn't a good liar, but he also can't tell them who he is, exactly. "I-I....We...met at the beach." It wasn't a total lie, but he was being very vague. It was all that he allowed himself to do.

"How long have you known him?"

"Uh..u-um...." Marius held out his hand and counted on his fingers since he was rescued from the beach. "How do you say it....what is the word for this number?" He held up his hands and recounted them in front of Mick.

"Ten."

He turned back to Jacques. "Ten. I have known him for ten days."

The two other ex mercenaries exchanged glances. Mick stepped in to put an end to whatever they were thinking.

"It's not what you think. Marius w-"

"BAHAHAAA-Are you sure? Because it sure looks like it, boy-o!" The Scotsman burst out in laughter at the absurd, typical explanation.

"LISTEN! He was injured and I took him in. He's got a nasty cut on his hip and he can barely walk because of how much it hurts. Had ta stitch it up and everythin'. Isn't that right, Marius?" He turned to the mer, eyes searching his for support.

"Mhm." He nodded in confirmation. He still wasn't very good with his legs, and the wound made it difficult to walk. Mick wasn't lying at all, but he noticed that he took the vague approach to explain the details to his friends.

"Wait wait, _you_ know how to treat injuries? Like-..Like you're some kinda-..wh-what are they called, Jacques?"

"'EMT?'"

"Yeah, an EMT! Since when d'you know how to handle those things?"

The ex-sniper scratched the back of his head. "I-...Learned a thing or two from Doc. Sure as hell came in handy."

"I'm sure it did." Jacques said with an amused smirk.

Mick had had just about enough of their disbelief and prying questions. His face went sour at the last remark. He crossed the kitchen and swiped the bottle of wine in front Jacques that he nearly flinched. "That's enough of that! You two believe what ya want, but I'm tellin' the truth! Take it or leave it. Now. Are we gonna crack this open and drink or are we gonna play twenty questions and spin this damn thing?"

Tavish was the first to speak in favor of the drinking. One vote was enough. Mick went to the drawer by the sink and tugged it open; it gets stuck because of the gadgets held in there. He brandished a bottle opener and tossed the bag aside. Marius watched his movements. The sharp bit was twisted into the soft stopper, all the way until it couldn't go anymore. Two handles went up on either side of it, and when both were risen above the screw, he pushed them back down and the cork popped out with a deep _**THUN!**_ He placed the bottle on the counter and opened a cabinet that revealed glasses of all shapes and sizes. Marius had only seen similar things like that in bits and pieces in the ocean. He reached up for four round glasses attached to a stem.  
One by one, Mick poured the burgundy liquid in each glass. The last one, however, had the least, perhaps one finger instead of the standard two for a brandy glass. He handed out the beverage to each person; Marius received the one with the smallest amount.

Jacques held out his in the air, and the others followed with a quizzical look. "To...new friends." He winked at Marius.

The others echoed the phrase and brought their cups to their lips and sipped. Marius, however, stopped as soon as the rim of the glass touched his lips. _It smelled so...bitter! It must taste horrible! Maybe that's why Mick gave me less than the others. I-...I have to appear normal to them._ That guy at the table is already onto me. He prepared for the worst taste in his life. The glass slowly tipped, the wine slid to his lips, and he took a sip.

 _Y-Yep, just as I thought._ His mouth puckered into a frown and his eyes narrowed as he glared down at the awful drink. Mick held back a outburst of laughter and went over to him, taking the wine glass.

"You don't have ta drink it. I jus' figured I'd let ya have a little taste." He placed the glass on the counter.

The mer was rubbing his tongue on the roof of his mouth as if to scrub out the bitterness of the wine. "Thank you."

"This stuff is Jacques's favorite, and he won't drink any others if they don't taste like it. Honestly, a little selfish but I don't mind it. I've grown accustomed to alcohol, doesn't bother me that much."

Marius didn't understand the appeal of this dark liquid, but he couldn't judge. He has eaten things stranger than any of these humans have ever eaten. If that's what he likes, so be it. He just won't have any.

The four of them eventually gravitated to the living room. Instead of his tight scrutinized observation of how much this place looks more like the pig pen out back, Jacques was shocked by how tidy it was. Finally, there were places to sit! They all parked themselves in their seats, Marius always by Mick's side. The three ex mercenaries were the ones that dominated conversations. Marius sat back and listened. Strange stories of warfare over gravel, robot (he had never heard of that word before) invasions, a truce, and now post Mann Co.

Eventually, someone's stomach growled. Mick proposed to cook up the fish he had in the fridge. Neither of them knew he could cook. He sifted through a recipe book Jacques once gave him, though it was more of a gag gift. He didn't actually think Mick was going to use it. He was pleasantly surprised.

The smell of herbs wafted through the air, a smell so unfamiliar that it intrigued Marius. The fish was prepared deliciously, nothing he had ever tasted before. Forget raw fish, this was how he wanted to eat it! The mer happily devoured the meal, savoring each bite.

By nightfall, the bottle was mostly empty. Marius was sleepily leaning on the arm of the couch when Mick noticed his heavy eyes.

"Tired, Marius?" He asked from across the room.

The latter perked up at the mention of his name, but quickly dropped back down and nodded.

"C'mon, let's get ya ta bed," Mick put his glass down on the coffee table as he went to Marius's side. "Up we go." He slid one arm around his neck, and held him up with his own arm around the mer's waist. "I'll be right back, fellas."

Mick slipped into the dark hallway that led to his bedroom. He clicked the light on and hobbled over to the bed. Marius practically flopped on the soft, bouncy mattress. His head hit the pillow, the covers were placed over his shoulder, and Mick flipped the switch off before heading back to the living room.


	12. Hearts That Beat As One (11)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Buckle up, friends. This is why this fic is rated E. Also, I'm so sorry I forgot to post it yesterday, but I swear, this one is worth the wait.)

"So what's the deal, mate? How'd ya pick up this...this handsome fella? I thought ya said you were done with that shite?"

Tavish placed his empty wine glass on the coffee table as Mick took up his place in the room again after sending Marius to bed.

A hand ran through his thick, slicked back hair. "You...You really wanna know? The real truth?"

They both nodded eagerly.

"Alright, but you can't tell anyone. Not a damn soul, because it would hurt him. Do I have your trust on this?"

Jacques and Tavish exchanged a glance, suddenly unsure if they were ready to hear what Mick was about to tell them. They swore themselves to secrecy.

"Ok," he sighed. "You remember when were under the docks? Where Tavish was freakin' out about a pile 'a rocks, huntin' for mermaids and all that?"

"Mhm, I remember that. That was my idea." The Scotsman confirmed.

"And remember when I said that I saw something in the water?"

" _Oui_ , but neither of us saw what you saw."

"Well, that.... _person_ wasn't a person. It-....It....ah god, I dunno if I can even say it because it sounds like rubbish." Another hand ran through his shortened locks.

"Just say it, mate."

He closed his eyes. "That person was a mermaid. _Is_ a mermaid. And he's sleeping in my bedroom as we speak."

Neither of them spoke, but looked blankly at the marksman.

Tavish was the first to speak. "You're full o' shit."

Mick shook his head. "'S true. That scar I told ya about? Well, a fishin' boat caught 'im, and I set 'im free. The captain of the boat wasn't too happy with that, so he thought he could catch him again with a harpoon. That injury on his hip was where the tip o' the harpoon grazed his body. Was a bloody mess. I was sure he was gonna bleed out in the water.

"So I followed him. Followed the trail of blood he left as he sought shelter. Hopped in me truck and sped down the beach until the trail ended. Found 'im huddled behind a rock, whimpering and bleedin'. I felt bad. Real bad. You know how I feel about shit like this."

They both nodded in confirmation.

"I couldn't just...leave him there. If I did, I-...I dunno what coulda happened! I mean, it'd probably get infected, other blokes woulda found him, high tide would sweep him up and he'd be shark bait. 'Sides, people woulda swallowed him up and hand him over to the feds or somethin'. I couldn't take him to a hospital because 'a that. I didn't trust 'em. So...now, he's here with me, until he's capable of living on his own. I mean, he can't even walk right now-"

"That's the thing," Tavish butt in. "He's got legs. He's walking. How do we know you're tellin' the truth? I want ta believe you because you know I love this stuff. But I just don't understand the legs."

"I...We don't know how either. When I put him in my camper to take him back with me, his tail was gone. When I changed his bandage one day, his tail suddenly appeared again. I dunno how but it's like it's a trigger system. Something must trigger it to come back. Right now, he's out of water. That's how he has his legs. Wait." Mick's face showed the gears turning in his head.

"You just explained the answer," Jacques interjected. "He's out of water. If he's back in water, his tail comes back, _non_? Have you tested this?"

"No, but when I changed his dressing, I used some rubbing alcohol on his skin. That musta triggered it!"

Jacques nodded in agreement

"Something wet has to touch his skin for the tail to grow back."

"I see now. A-Anyway," he waved his hands to clear the thoughts. "I've been takin' care of him. And I dunno what it is, but...whenever I..whenever I jus' look at him, I...feel somethin'. I haven't felt like this...I guess I haven't felt like this in years. I actually didn't expect to feel this way about anybody ever ag- What're you two lookin' at?"

Tavish grinned from ear to ear while Jacques's brow was raised.

"Am I hearing this correctly, bushman? You are falling in love...with a fish?"

Though he could do nothing to stop it, Mick's cheeks burned a bright red. "No-..I mean, kinda? But it's not-...I don't understand it either! All I know, is that when I look at him, I feel like the world is more tolerable. He-...He's so-...innocent. He doesn't have any knowledge about us humans except that we destroy his home. But....for some reason, that doesn't-...I'm not included in that general assumption. He even yelled at me for thinkin' that I was part of them, the ones that fucked up his home.

"I don't know. Just...something about those big green eyes, that-....that beautiful smile. I'd do anything to make him smile. I've seen him cry, and-...and it hurts me own heart. Anything to keep him happy." Mick had lost track of his outspoken thoughts when he blinked and saw the awe in Tavish's face, and Jacques's softened features. He shrunk back, waiting for the criticism.

"You were always the soft one out of all of us, _mon ami._ You think you're a hardened criminal but I've been there when you were at your lowest point, from your last relationship. It took you a long time to come back from that. She never deserved you."

Mick was taken aback. "Really? You've...never said anythin' like that before."

The latter pulled out a cigarette from his case and struck a match. He puffed until the end was lit. "I don't normally. But, we are being sincere, are we not? I don't actually hate you," he waved the stick until the fire went out. "You just get on my nerves."

"I could say the same about you, ya spook."

"Touche. But in any case, if this is what you want, who am I to stop you?"

Both sets of eyes were suddenly on Tavish, whose grin had dimmed. "What, oh me? You want my advice?"

"Not particularly your advice, but your thoughts." The Frenchman exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"I mean....I support ya, but I just-...Just be careful. You've heard of the Men in Black, right? They got eyes an' ears all over this country. If you wanna keep him safe, you better be prepared to fend off any pryin' eyes. Anythin' weird, and they'll jump on your back for info." Of course he'd bring up some conspiracy junk.

The marksman gave a hearty chuckle. "Even if they did exist, they'd have to get through _me_ first."

They all paused for a beat.

"I know you just met him, but...he's really somethin'. I think you'll like him."

The evening progressed to the small hours of the night. Jacques and Tavish stood from their seats and bid goodnight to Mick. He showed them out and shut the lights. He hobbled over to the couch and set up his sleeping place. A few blankets were thrown and pillow at one end, and that was his bed. He started to notice a few kinks in his back, which made him miss his bed sorely. As long as Marius slept there, he'd stay out in the living room, even if it meant sacrificing a few sleepless nights.

* * *

  
Mick woke in the morning to a loud _**THUD!** _He nearly fell off the couch and scrambled to his feet, sleep still clouding his vision and consciousness. His immediate reaction was to check on Marius. He was the only thing that could've made such a noise, especially since it sounded like whatever hit the floor was on carpet and Mick's room was carpeted.

The door swung open and Mick looked wildly around. It was what he assumed: Marius was on the floor. He was whimpering, legs shaking. Something happened, but Mick couldn't understand what. Did he trip? Possibly.

"Marius? What's wrong? What happened?" He went to the crumpled mer.

"Legs-...Legs!" He cried out, pain contorting his scared face.

"What? What about your legs?"

"Hurt!"

"Didja trip and fall?"

"N-No! Hurt-...Ooohh!" Marius wailed as he rubbed at his legs, rocking back and forth. "Water! I-...Need water!"

"To drink?" Mick's mind was in a frenzy.

"No! _In_ water!"

Now he understood. It had been days, weeks since he let his tail take form. This human form, with legs, was not natural for him. Whatever kind of biology that was keeping him together, it was wearing thin and he needed to release his tail. But where? He couldn't take him to the beach. The tub! It'll have to do!

Mick scooped him up in his arms and rushed him to the washroom. His arms shook as he lowered the sobbing mer into the tub. He turned the faucet on and water shot from the spout, hitting Marius's feet. The very moment the water touched his feet, his legs were swallowed up by a huge fish tail. It was too big for the tub, and it hung out on the side. Mick sat back on his haunches and let the warm water fill the tub. They were both panting.

The pain began to fade. Marius laid his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as relief washed over him. That was a first. He never expected such a feeling from staying as a human for too long. Perhaps he should sit in the tub every few days or so, to avoid another panic like this one.

He opened his eyes and looked back at Mick, who was looking over him worriedly. A small smile tugged at his mouth.

"Thank you," he said breathlessly.

Mick let out a sigh and mimicked the smile back. He fell back on his rear, one leg bent and rested his arm on it. He wiped at the sweat building up on his forehead. "'S alright. But...wow that-...that was scary. New. You ok?"

He nodded. "I will be."

"Shit! I forgot about the bandage! Ah dammit," he exclaimed, which was followed up by an eye roll and the pinching of the bridge of his nose. "I'll....change it when you're all dry."

A quiet hush fell over them. The sound of the rushing water filled the silence. Marius flicked his fins, stretching them and relieving the ache of his sore appendages. Mick couldn't help but notice the shine in his scales, the translucent sheen of his fins, the tapering of scales to his flesh on his hips. Luckily, he caught himself before Marius did.

Little splashes of water on his tail was what pulled him out of his thoughts. Marius was cupping the water and pouring it over the areas that couldn't be reached. Mick pitched in, though he didn't mean to brush against it. He recoiled his hand, afraid that he broke a boundary with the mer. No shouts of protest, no slaps on the hand, not even a splash of water as a warning. What he didn't expect was a look of approval. He saw how curious he was, saw the sparkle in his eyes as he laid them on that magnificent tail.

Mick swallowed thickly. Of course he wanted to feel it. Never in his life has seen something so extraordinary as this, let alone believe it exists. He wondered if it felt rough like a shark's skin. Only one way to find out. He raised his hand and hovered it over the tail. Something stopped him. Was it the fear of crossing such a boundary? He balled his hand into a tight fist, the tension showing in his forearm, then released it and wiggled his fingers. He gently placed it on his tail.

Marius gasped with a cry of pain. He quickly withdrew his hand, a flash of worry all over his features.

The mer let out a laugh he had never heard before, a belly laugh so full of amusement and joy that Mick felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Th-....That didn't really hurt, did it?" He cradled his hand with the other.

"N-No!" His shoulders shook with laughter. "B-But your face!"

Mick cracked a smile, the mer's was becoming infectious. "Had me fooled real good."

A wordless nod, save for the laughs, was all Marius could say. A tear trickled down his cheek. He laughed so hard that he was crying. He didn't even know that was possible. Long nails wiped at the tear. Slowly, he was brought down from his high, from the little joke he played.

The latter chuckled along with him until they both calmed down. Marius sighed contently. He allowed Mick another chance, no funny business this time.

Once again, a hand was gingerly placed on the tail, and Marius remained still and observant. It glided down slowly, over the smoothness of the scales. A shiver ran up the mer's spine. Something so intimate in the least sexual way gave him such a sensory overload that he wanted him to do it again. The touch was so unfamiliar, so long forgotten that he didn't remember what it was like to be touched by something or someone else. The word he was looking for was touch-starved.

The marksman noted every dip in his fingers as he slid down the scales. They were hard, almost like rows of sequins, though they couldn't flip back over to reveal an underside. Maybe the equivalence of nails was more appropriate. Hard, protective, shiny. He continued to stroke the tail over and over, marking the sensation in a memory to never forget.

He did forget the faucet should have been turned off. The water was enough to allow the mer to soak comfortably, though he didn't exactly fit in the tub. The knobs squeaked to a stop and the water ceased its flow from the spout. Mick stood from his spot.

"I'll, uh, let you relax. Just call if ya need me."

Marius hummed in response, the warmth of the water radiating in strings of steam and heating his body deliciously.

Mick left him to himself and picked up where he left off. Breakfast.

* * *

  
It had been about thirty minutes or so that Marius was in the tub. Mick had gone in to give him some breakfast and left him again to enjoy it in the comfort of the (rather small) tub. Thirty minutes ought to have been enough. He went back to the washroom to check in.

The mer was ready to come out, the cramped space was getting to him now. Mick grabbed some towels underneath the sink and drained the tub. He hoisted him (with great difficulty again) and laid him on the floor. He took the towels and patted down his body, the fabric soaking up the moisture from his skin. He rubbed him all over, covered his head and mussed his hair up, which earned a few giggles from the mer. Marius pushed the towel out of his face, though his hair was still wrapped in the fluffy fabric. Mick grinned playfully, cupping his face in the towel. They were so close, their noses almost touching. Together, unbeknownst to the other, their hearts pounded hard and fast. All it took was one inch more, and their lips would be connected. Mick felt it, Marius felt it, and they would not deny it if asked, but they remained still. Nerves. Butterflies. Runaway heartbeats. It was all there. They were too scared to take that leap of faith.

Mick cleared his throat, being the first to break the silence. "D-....D'you, uh....need help?"

No. He could stand by himself. "Yes."

No complaints were said. Mick lifted his dry form from the floor, their eyes never leaving each other's. He brought him back in the bedroom and placed him back on the bed. Marius perched on the edge of the bed while Mick turned to grab new, clean clothes from his drawer, when-

"Wait." His arm bent to reach out to him. Mick paused in his steps and pivoted around.

"What is it?"

"Come here."

The ex-sniper swallowed hard. Marius beckoned him to the bedside, in his beautiful naked form. If Mick had no self-control, he'd be all over him, loving him from head to toe. He returned to him, knelt, their eyes meeting once more, both arms and hands placed at the mer's side, subconsciously encircling him.

"Can I...show you something?"

He nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed again. This was really happening.

The mer took his right hand that laid by his thighs, and brought it to his chest, where his heart pounded in his chest; Mick's eyes followed it and widened. They flicked between his hand to his face. The other met the latter's face and cupped his jaw, the thumb stroking his cheek sweetly.

"This...heart, it-....it beats for you." Marius's face was entirely red, though his expression rang true to his confession.

"Wh-........What?" Mick wasn't convinced this was actually happening, that he actually just said that.

"You-....You have given me new life. You have shown me the tender-...tenderness, care, love, that I-....that I have been missing. With each new day that I am here, I fall harder and harder and I realize that this is where I want to be. My heart....My heart is yours to take, to hold, if you will have me."

Mick's mouth gaped open as he said these words, words that he thought he'd never hear. It took him a second to let the information process before he could speak again.

"Marius, I-.....I-....I don't even know wh-where to start or-" That wasn't a good response. He blinked and licked his lips, trying at another attempt. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. You have no idea how much I've wanted to jus'....hold your hand, brush that strand of hair outta your face," his other free hand closed in on his hip. "Kiss away your pain. Kiss...your...y-your..." He trailed off as his eyes floated downward to Marius's soft lips; he, too, down to Mick's.

Marius leaned down to close the gap between them. Mick reached up and claimed the other's lips. In that instant, sparks flew, flames roared, tingly sensations intensified. Every nerve was on fire, alive and burning. The hand on the mer's chest wandered up to his jaw, the other gripped at his hip. The latter's hands both remained on Mick's jaw, holding him close, to kiss him over and over.

Their lips mashed together. Marius's knees collided with Mick's stomach as they pulled each other closer and closer. It wasn't enough. _Closer._ Marius opened his legs to allow him to in his space. Mick took the hint and moved himself against the side of the bed, his body pressed against the mer's.

Marius felt a cold chill down his spine, and it nestled right between his legs. His sex awakened, the head of his penis peering through the folds, the lips of his labia dripping for touch. It urged him to let his hands wander over Mick's body. And indeed they did. They slid from his jaw to over his shoulders, into those short brown locks, down to the chest, under the arms, raking his sharp nails up and down. This felt natural, like this was how it was supposed to be done. He was _living_ for it. They broke apart to take a short breath, gasping for air, but showed their lungs no mercy. More. _More._

Mick's hands did the same, up and down his slender body, grabbing his hips and thighs and squeezing his waist. The tightness was back, his pants were becoming uncomfortable. He wanted to do away with them, discard them, show himself to Marius, since he always bore his body and soul to him almost everyday. In due time. He hungrily kissed down his neck, and Marius tilted his head to allow him access.

Little moans escaped from the mer's mouth, which was Mick was looking for. That sweet little melody from his mer-... _his_ mer. That sounded wonderful. He wanted to hear more, longer, louder. The marksman stood, careful to not break apart, body bent to do so. He lifted Marius up and backwards onto the bed, who, in turn, clung to him with his legs and arms. They ground against each other, Mick's clothes being the only barrier between them.

The first layer was shed, being Mick's shirt. Underneath the fabric was a body Marius worshipped. Toned muscles, not thick and bulky, a trail of hair leading down into his pants, tanned skin, the outline of fading abs. Marius wanted that body on top of his. He threw the shirt aside and dove back down for more languid kisses. Soft, guttural moans came from Mick, with each nip, suck, and kiss he gave and was given.

The next was his pants. He unbuckled the clasp with a little _clink!_ and he shirked it off of his legs. Tucked tightly in his briefs, Mick's member throbbed for him. Marius opened his legs as far as his injury would allow him and invited him to come. He took no time to dive down onto him, grinding their sexes together, that piece of fabric giving great friction against Marius, and a blind touch to Mick.

Upon contact, the mer broke apart to moan louder than before, eyes fluttering shut, head falling back onto the pillow. Mick watched him with great pleasure, knowing that he was doing something right. It sent a shiver down his spine and to his groin.

Marius began to breathe harder, that delicious feeling between his legs made him pant for more. Mick was more than happy to oblige. The grinding felt good, but the connection will be even better.

His thumbs dug under the waistband and pushed his underwear downwards, down to his knees, then kicked off with his foot. The mer beheld the sight that towered over him. Mick was a mess, sweat glistened his brow and arms, his stomach pumped in and out for air rapidly, his member was on the large side. Full and erect, lengthy and girthy, compared to his slim, long member that was completely emerged; he felt a tremble in his body. Mick was about to line himself up when Marius abruptly stopped him.

"W-Wait!"

The marksman halted in his actions. "What? What's the matter? T-...Too fast?"

"N-No, I-...It's-....It's just-....well, I've never done this before." He felt the shame creep upon his heart as his partner stared at him in disbelief.

"Really? I-...Well I mean, I'd have never guessed because-...u-um...you're doin' so well. It's just...hard to believe because.....I mean, you're so-...so beautiful. I just thought--that sounded horrible. I....didn't mean to assume. But...you...you really are beautiful."

The mer covered his face to hide the blush that reddened his whole face, ears, and neck.

"Honest! Sorry, didn't mean to make ya feel embarrassed. D'you still wanna....do this?" He didn't want to ask that, but it was appropriate to always receive a conscious yes or no, even if he guesses correctly.

"Yes, yes I do," he uncovered his face, alarmed that he would think his mind was changed. "I-....just wanted to let you know."

"Well, thank you for telling me. Here, let's get you set up," Mick climbed off of the bed and into the washroom to retrieve a towel and some condoms from the medicine chest (in case one of them breaks). He came back and clambered back on. "Lift your butt up. Good. Lemme just slide this under." He placed the towel underneath his hips and told him to lay back down. He picked up a condom and tore it open. He slid it on his member with ease. Now everything was set.

He resumed lining himself up, the tip right at his folds. He guided the head to find the opening and he paused. "Are you ready?"

He nodded vigorously.

Mick lowered himself back down to lay on top of him, cock poised at the ready. He gave Marius his hand. "Hold on, _sweetheart._ Take a deep breath."

He did as he was told, and as he inhaled deeply, Mick slid himself in slowly with the aid of his slick lips. It was difficult to do, however, he was too tight. "Relax," he hushed as Marius tried desperately not to tense.

Maybe it was the size, the length, the width of his member that intimidated him. The first hurdle was breaking the hymen. Marius reassured him to keep going, though it hurts. His body screamed for release, yearned to get through that barrier, he persevered through it.

He pushed in farther and farther until he jerked forward. Marius cried out in mixture of pleasure and pain. Immediately, he checked in with him. "You ok?"

"Uh-huh," he nodded through squeezed eyes and heavy panting.

"Good, good. I'm not even all the way in yet," he chuckled nervously. "Don't worry, I'll go slow."

A nod was the only response he gave. At his approval, Mick pushed himself in gradually until he was in up to the hilt. Blood seeped from his lips and onto the towel, leaking onto his partner's member. But it was beginning to feel so good. That itch that he didn't even know could be scratched was finally going to be satisfied.

"F-Fuck that feels amazing," Mick growled, his eyes shuddering shut as he used every ounce of energy to keep from pounding the mer. He stayed buried in him for a few seconds, allowing him to get used to the feeling. A minute was all he could take. "I'm gonna move now."

Marius latched on with his arms, hooked under Mick's and hands gripping at his back. Slowly, long rolls from Mick's hips caused a reaction in him.

"Nnnghaaaaahhh!" He too moved his hips to match his rhythm, wanting to drag out that sinful feeling.

"Shit that's-....oooh fuck." The marksman grunted with each roll of his hips.

They started at a beginner's pace, their sighs melding together as they moved in unison. Mick straightened himself and stretched his back before leaning back down again, though he hovered about a foot over Marius. One hand cupped his face while the other sunk his nails into his hip. He drank in every detail, his twisted face of pleasure, the blush of his body, the feel of it snugly wrapped around him. This is where he wanted to stay, with him, in this glorious moment of ecstasy.

The mer met with the hand on his face with his own, turning his head to kiss it. His other slid down to rest on his forearm, occasionally gripping so hard that it was sure to leave a mark from his claws.

Mick dug his nails in harder as he picked up the pace, going from gentle rolls to thrusts. He bucked his hips against Marius's pelvis. The mer's eyes rolled back and fluttered shut as a breathy moan tore from his voice.

He held back a chuckle, unable to contain his own pleasure. "How does that feel? Feel good?"

"U-Uh-huh! Keep going-....please!"

"As you wish." He slammed harder, producing a prominent sound of skin slapping against skin.

On and on, they fucked. Marius was an absolute mess. Eyes half lidded with love and lust, wispy groans, body covered in the sheen of sweat, legs pushed apart by Mick's thrusting hips, hands grasping on his partner for dear life. A tingling sensation started in his pelvis that buzzed whenever he hit a sensitive spot. He clung to that feeling, didn't know what it was, but he wanted it.

"Ooohh Mick," he called out to his lover. "Harder-...f-faster!"

"God, I've been waitin' ta hear you say that." At the bequest of his partner, Mick doubled down and thrust harder and faster. He leaned down to seal another kiss between them, with Marius moaning into the kiss. "F-Fuck, sweetheart, you sound beautiful. Lemme hear you sing."

Multiple moans, one on top of the other as Mick fucked him into the bed. He rested his forehead against Marius's, taking turns to gaze deeply into each other's eyes and squeeze them shut from the overload of pleasure surging through their bodies. The bed creaked under their lovemaking, the bed frame rocked with them. The room was filled with sloppy slaps, grunts and groans, cries of bliss, and pleads for the melding of one body and soul. A few weeks of pining for the other was the perfect formula for their passionate sex. Nothing felt more right than to make love with each other, their hearts beating as one, their minds intertwining.

They progressed together, their sexes aching and throbbing for each other's. Mick had slowed to catch his breath, and it was Marius who checked in this time.

"Are-....you-...alright?" He asked through gasps, his hand left Mick's arm to reach up and run through the latter's hair, pushing away a few stray pieces from the intensity of his thrusts.

"Y-...Yeah. Just-....needed some air, eheh," a breathy chuckle was added to obscure Marius from worrying at a time like this. "I'm not done yet. I know _you're_ not done yet."

The mer bit his lip to hide a smile, he shook his head. "Not yet."

That little bite sent a shiver down his spine again. More energy pumped in his veins, and sped up once more. Marius felt the warmth in his hips as he started again. It was small, but it was there and it was growing. Mick pounded away at his pink lips, sliding in and out so easily. Out about half way, then rammed back in, over and over again. The more he paid attention to that itch nestled in his hips, the more his legs muscles tensed.

"M-Mick! I-...I feel s-s-so funny. Wh-....What is it?" His grip tightened again.

A triumphant smile split his lips. "It's about to happen. I'm almost there too. We'll d-do it together?"

Marius nodded fervently. If Marius was about to come, he wanted to hear and see everything in that moment, watch his first orgasm. Oh god, what a sight that's going to be.

Mick slammed so hard into that he knew he was going to be sore for a while. He felt a heat bubble in groin, his cocked slicked with Marius's juices, bucking in and out of him so wildly he almost scared himself.

More frequent, rapid moans came from beneath him. He was getting close, Mick could feel it. His walls started to prepare for it. He wait for him to realize it was upon them both.

"Oooh! There it is! Th-That feeling again! Oh gods! Hoh- hoh Neptune! Mick! Mick, please!" He screamed his name as the verge approached. His breathing was so deep, then sporadically fast that it almost worried Mick.

More thrusts, more jerking, Marius gripped so tight he thought he made him bleed. "Mick! Ahh! Miiick!"

"I gotcha, love! That's it, come for me, darlin'! Let me hear ya hear sing!"

Each thrust of his cock sent him over the edge. His leg muscles tensed to prepare him for the orgasm that was about to strike. He gasped hard for air as his walls tightened and twitched around his partner's dick. He ground his hips against Mick's to create that friction again. He arched his back, head pressing back into the pillow and lifting his body off of the bed in such a form that Mick nearly lost himself. His penis, though neglected, spurt its white, thick, sticky cum onto his own stomach and his lover's.

Mick felt the spasm of his pussy around his cock that he too erupted from his partner's sounds and movements. "Marius!" was all he shouted as his member spewed his seed within him, captured by the condom. He rode out his high, bucking erratically as the wave washed over him and crashed onto the sand.

The creaking stopped, in it's place, heavy pants and gasps as they froze together, bodies shaking with tension. Gradually, they relaxed, their muscles releasing from their tight bonds. Before he pulled out, Mick wanted to look at this beauty in from of him. He was so far into him, his cock twitched just from the sight. Marius laid beneath him, sweaty, flushed, legs on either side of his (Mick's) hips, his chest rose and fell as his breathing evened out, lips parted, those eyes, so hazy and lu-...no, not lustful, loving, so full of admiration and adoration. He still couldn't believe this just happened. The realization hit him when Marius smiled up at him.

He pulled out with a wet _plop!_ and collapsed right next to the mer. Marius straightened his legs to give the other some space. A warm, calloused hand slid around his slender waist and pulled him close.

Marius turned his body so that his backside fit to the curve of Mick's front as they laid on their sides. Little, tender kisses were peppered all over his shoulder, on his neck, on his back. Even he was beginning to doubt this experience. Did he really just do that? With the only person he loves? Wrapping his head around it was proving difficult, as his thoughts were jumbled from his orgasm. Now _that_ was amazing. He never felt anything like that before. This was something he could become addicted to. With Mick's body pressed against his and his arm thrown over his waist, he wedged his digits between the marksman's, intertwining their fingers.

After a long moment of silence, Mick spoke. "How are you, darlin'?"

"Incredible." He could hear the smile in his tone. "And you?"

"On top 'o the world," he boasted. "Did-...Didja enjoy that?"

"Yes. Very much. Did you?"

"God, yes. And I'm glad you did. I'd-....I'd give anything to you," he turned Marius around to look him in those shimmering, virescent eyes. "Listen. I want ya to know that. You want me here and now? I'll do it. You want a swordfish steak," he grinned playfully and cupped his face. "I'll get it for you. You _need_ me beside you? I'll stay. You need your space? I'll give it to you. You need me to mend your broken body, your weary soul? I'll fix it for you. You need the ocean? I'll bring you to it. If-....If you need to leave....I'll let you. I just want ya to be happy."

The last thing he wanted to appear as was a blubbering fool, yet the tears rolled down his cheeks and over his nose, onto the pillow. The sincerity in his voice, the tenderness in his tone, it could not be mistaken. These were real words that were spoken to him, of all beings on this earth! His heart was bursting with joy, so much joy that it manifested in tears.

Mick frowned in concern. "Don't cry, love. I-...eheh, I didn't mean ta make ya cry."

A hand was waved, then pressed to his lips to hush him, as he gathered his words. It covered his outer hand and grasped at it. "N-No-....that's not it. I-....I fell in love with you....only a week or two ago. My heart was strong, but m-my head...was so wary. B-B-...But now, you have proved my head wrong...and my heart right. I can't-....I can't say it yet, but it's there. I can feel it. Remember when I said 'take my heart?' Take my body, my soul, my mind. You offer me the world, but I....I-...don't have much to give but my love. I-"

Thick brows knitted together in the middle. "Don't say anything like that ever again! _You_ are enough! Your love is all I need, all I want! I don't need fancy things from you, and you don't need to think that you have to give me things to prove yourself to me. I want to give you things, but I don't ask for anything in return. It's....It's just how I show my affection. All I need is you. I could lose my house, my belongings, _myself,_ and all I need is you. Don't ever think your love is measured by materialistic things. Look-...Look what we just did! We did that! We made love! Fuckin' fantastic love! I mean-....you really blew my mind! Are you sure you're not part-siren? B-"

"Oh, no, I'm sure," he giggled through his sniffles. "I would have eaten you already."

"Even if you were, I'd say fuckin' 'thank you' for eating me. The point is," he licked his lips. " _You_ are what my life was missing. Not your net worth, not your money or whatever you use for currency, just _you._ Do ya understand?"

His thumb stroked his rough skin on the back of his hand. He nodded, smiling so brightly through those happy tears.

"Good." Mick kissed him and tasted the salty sweetness of his tears.

"But wait," Marius said as they parted. "Can-....Can I still give you things? If I want to?"

"Of course you can! I'm not gonna stop ya, and certainly not gonna say 'no.'" He ran his hand through the mer's thick, black, short locks. "Come on, let's go get cleaned up."


	13. Domesticated (12)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Pardon the crappy title of this chapter, I couldn't think of a good one.)

They couldn't look at each other the same way anymore. Not after they bore their souls to each other, not after becoming one and reaching that forbidden paradise. They'd steal glances from across the room, teasing the other. Marius was at his happiest. He could not recall such a happy feeling before, considering his troubled past. Nothing could compare to the strong connection that he shared with his lover. He didn't want to let it go, and he'd be damned if he did. Sounds selfish, he conceded, but he didn't care if he was being selfish. For the first time in his life, he was allowed to be selfish. He didn't have to worry about others judging him for betraying his people, he didn't have to feel ashamed anymore. This person brought him so much joy, so much love, that he aimed to please them, and give himself to them. No other person on earth could come between them. He wanted to show him everything about his culture, his scars, himself, the good, the bad, and the ugly. He was going to be true to him, and to himself, from now, on. This marked a change in him, a change for the better.

Mick was at his best whenever he was with Marius. He was a better person, he was productive, active, cleaned up his act to appeal to his lover. Before Marius, he lived everyday as the next, doing little to nothing and letting the time fly by. He was glad to have Tavish and Jacques with him. There was no telling what he would do if he didn't. They'd been a through a lot together, war being the number one traumatic thing, though the second half of his career revolved around killing robots instead of the RED team. He had many flings, with many different people. Love was something he felt he didn't deserve for being so cold and closed off. His last relationship was one he wished to forget. He didn't see it as something to learn from, he just wanted the bitch dead. For all he knew, she was probably out fucking up the next low life. He blamed himself for getting into messy situations, and he claims that he should've seen it coming. The last thing he saw coming, on the contrary, was this ethereal being that came out of the blue. Literally. He had no knowledge of who he was, what he did. It was a clean slate. He didn't have to hide behind a war-bidden mask that scared off his enemies, he didn't have to play the dangerous playboy to get some kind of interaction. 

All of that was in the past, long gone and dead. Marius was his fresh start. And it was so refreshing, so wonderful, so relieving to go back to that innocent boy on the farm. He brought out the best in him. Brought out that lover-of-life kind of feeling he used to have. 

The only concern they had was keeping Marius safe. It was only the three of them that knew; Tavish, Jacques, and Mick. Keeping a mer from human society was no easy feat. This means that he had to avoid the rain, public beaches, snow, anything that would jeopardize his life that normal humans wouldn't even consider a threat. Mick was prepared to protect him from anything that was hurled his way. He also pressured his friends into doing the same, having them prove that they weren't going to run and tell the world.

It was high time that Marius should get his own clothes, not that Mick minded. He was going to run out of old t-shirts sooner or later, and Marius refused to wear pants; he says they're too restricting, especially if his legs got wet; they'd tear and split from the reshaping of his gigantic tail. But for the sake of public indecency, Mick stressed that he needed to wear them out in public.

He didn't put up a fight, nor did he argue against him. He did, however, make him assist in getting dressed. 

"Fine, fine, whatever it takes to get ya put on some bloody trousers." He smirked, swiping a pair of fresh sweatpants from the drawer. "Come 'ere."

Marius returned the smirk, and folded his arms. "No, _you_ come _here._ "

Though his patience was beginning to wear thin, he rolled his eyes jokingly. He slumped over to the mer and held out the pants for him to step into. "Come on, one foot in. Hold on to me so ya don't fall."

He didn't budge, just continued to smirk at him.

Mick gave an irritated grunt and knelt down. He looked up with the intent to force them on if he didn't comply. 

The right foot raised, pointed and poised to slip through. He almost lost his balance and quickly reached out for Mick's shoulder to steady himself.

Before it touched the floor, Mick grabbed his calf and halted him. He kissed the shin, then the knee, then the inner thigh, while his calloused hand loosened its grip and caressed up and down his leg before settling on the ankle and guiding his foot through the pant-leg. Marius shivered and his eyes fluttered closed.

"Now the other."

The left foot copied its other half, and Mick kissed it just the same. His lips lingered on his thigh. He kissed higher and higher, up to his pelvis bone, as he slid the pants up slowly, kissed his lower stomach, his navel, until the pants were up and pulled tight around his waist. Goosebumps rose all over the mer's flesh, a divine feeling that he'd like to feel again and again. 

"There." He concluded his feat.

The latter stood and wrapped his arms around Marius's waist and dipped down to give him a chaise kiss on his lips. Marius was left dazed and slightly aroused as he pulled away to finish the task of getting dressed.

* * *

  
Mick helped Marius into the passenger seat of his van and slammed it shut. He hopped in the driver's seat and started the car. The engine purred loudly, a sound he was so used to. So when Marius exclaimed a noise of surprise and wonder, he had to stop and consider that he probably didn't know what a car was.

"I did not know they sound like this!" Marius patted down the interior and he listened intently to the sound of the rumbling engine. "It is all so....so fascinating!"

He chuckled lightly. "This ain't even a new car. I had this since me snipin' days. She still runs beautifully, though she's taken a beating. Poor gal's seen better days." He looks to the right mirror where Scout accidentally hit a foul ball while playing ball with the boys on a hot summer day at base. Engineer had become his savior whenever he couldn't get her to work. He didn't want to accept the defeat just yet, so he'd work on her until he reached every dead of the ropes. 

He gave the steering wheel a nonchalant pat as he thought back on the days of her professional use with the team. His hand then slid down to the shift and put it in reverse, and off they went to the shops. 

* * *

  
"Thanks, mate. Have a good one." Mick parted from the snack stand with two snow cones in either hand, and joined Marius at a neighboring table. "Gotcha somethin.'"

Marius was pulled from his exhaustion and defeat of not finding a single pair of pants that he liked. Mick handed him the frozen treat and he took it. He jolted in his seat. "Oh! It's so--..cold!"

The latter nearly choked on his spoonful. "Y-Yeah, it's ice. Shaved ice, with syrup. You eat it."

The mer looked at him with such a vacant expression. "Humans....can eat cold things? _And_ hot?"

Mick nodded as he took another bite of his treat. "We're more resilient than we'd like."

He looked back and forth, between the frozen snack and Mick. He certainly seemed to enjoy it, and he was a bit parched from walking around in the hot sun all day. Marius picked up the spoon and mimicked his partner's actions. He dug into it and pulled a huge chunk of ice and before Mick could warn him, he tasted it. It was like watching a slow-motion reaction on a comedy show.

Sharp nails gripped the paper cup, his eyes were wide like saucers, his free hand began to wave frantically. "Ah-...ow! Ow!"

The marksman knew exactly what was happening, and though he tried to fight back a laugh, it came out anyway. Marius looked outraged and alarmed. How could he laugh at a time like this?

"I shoulda warned ya faster than you could lick at it! What yer feelin'....is brain freeze! B-But your face!" Mick doubled over, his snow cone tilting in his hand. 

Marius did not see the humor in this. He was so uncomfortable, the twisted expression on his face displayed so. 

"It's temporary, love, it'll go away. Don't take another bite just yet, let it go away first." He caught his breath after a good laugh. He considered it pay back for when Marius pulled the little joke in the bathtub. 

He waited a few seconds, which turned into a minute. Finally, the pain dulled and faded to nothing. He wanted to eat it again but he eyed it suspiciously. Mick noticed and smirked, his brow one brow quirking in amusement. 

"Just take a smaller bite, it won't happen again."

The mer narrowed his eyes out of doubt, but he did scoop a lesser amount than the last. He opened his mouth, spoon poised, but he pulled it away. "If it does, I am blaming you." He stuck his tongue in a cheeky manner. 

The latter copied him, sticking his tongue out.

"Wait-...is..is your tongue...green?" Marius put the spoon down back into the ice, eyes filled with horror and shock.

"Oh, yeah," he swallowed another bite. "Mine's green apple flavor, it's the syrup that's colorin' my tongue. It's like a dye, it's edible. See?" He stuck it out farther to show the horrified mer. 

"Does that hurt? Is it permanent?" He peered at it from afar.

"Nah. It's not painful at all, and it's also temporary. Kids get a kick outta this. If you keep eatin' yours, it'll turn your tongue blue. Go ahead, try it."

Marius picked up the spoon again and ate it. Well, he was right, no brain freeze this time. At least he could now observe the taste instead of fretting over the pain. It was sickeningly sweet, but it kept drawing him back in. Definitely not the best thing humans eat, but it cooled him down from the heat of the sun. 

They ate their snow cones while they continued to chat lightly. Marius looked around the area, taking in the many sights. He commented on everything that he took interest in. The ocean was way off in the distance, where bathers lined the shoreline. Gulls squawked above, pestering the humans for any scraps of their food. Families, individuals, and groups of all sizes walked along the boardwalk. Some spoke in a language he didn't understand. Little ones jumped around, cried, laughed, ran, chased each other all over. Beside him, Mick finished his cone. He kept the empty container in his hand. 

"Lemme see now." 

Marius swallowed the ice and opened his mouth. 

Both of Mick's brows raised. "Wow, that's an electric blue, alright."

"Really?" He said with a playful grin.

"Mhm," he nodded. "We should make teal." He winked at him.

"Teal?"

"It's...the name of the color when blue and green are, uh...mixed." He chuckled awkwardly.

It took a few seconds for Marius to get what he was actually trying to say. It clicked, and Marius gave him a devious smile. He leaned in and kissed his green-stained lips. The latter smirked through it.

Mick parted their kiss and took his empty cup. "Finished?"

He nodded. 

They stood from their seats, and he threw out the cups in the trash can. He returned to his partner's side and held his hand. "Come on, let's keep lookin.'"

* * *

  
"What about this one?"

Mick held up a pair of light blue jeans to Marius. He pressed it to his hips. 

"Mmm....No, not these." He frowned as he looked over himself in the nearby mirror. They were put back on the rack.

They squeezed their way through the numerous racks of clothes in the small shop. Marius touched the fabrics as they moved along, curious to feel the difference of each piece of clothing. Too rough, too thick, too heavy. He suddenly stopped as he eyed a possible candidate. He wedged his fingers between the hangers and pushed them apart. His eyes lit up. This one!

The marksman sifted through a neighboring rack when Marius bounded up to him, holding his findings.

"Those-....aren't pants." He looked between him and the article of clothing. He watched his face change to confusion. 

"But...they are among other pants. Why are they not pants? What is it called, then?"

"That's a...s-skirt. See, pants-...it's like sleeves for your legs. Two holes for them to fit through. This only has one."

"So I put one leg in?"

"N-No," he laughed nervously, averting his eyes. He spotted a mannequin sporting one. "Look over there, at that figure." Marius followed his outstretched arm pointing to the plastic model. "It-...You wear it like that."

"Oh. That is even better! I do not have to worry about ripping the pants if my legs get wet!" He exclaimed, gripping the hanger tighter.

Mick glanced around as he burst from his excitement. "Ssshh, ssh! No one is supposed to know about you being a-...well...I'm just sayin' try not to be too loud about it. This town has eyes and ears all over, and word travels fast."

The mer didn't let his zeal disappear. He grinned from ear to ear as he looked over his find. A question popped in his head, and he turned back to Mick. "How will I know if it fits me?"

"Ya have to try it on first, before you buy--NO, not here!" Mick scrambled to keep Marius from taking his pants off right in public. His cheeks burned from embarrassment and from just the thought of seeing him walking around like he does in the house. "C-Come on, let's go over here."

He ushered him to the back of the store, where three dressing rooms sat vacant. One was filled with discarded clothes, and the other two were ready for the next customers. Mick glanced around again, and slipped inside with him, shutting the curtain. 

"Listen, you-....you can't just take your clothes off in public," he said in a hushed voice. "That's against the law, a-and as much as I'd love to see you sport your good looks, everybody else doesn't. Especially the police. If you want to try on clothes, or even change, you have to do it in designated areas. Like this one." He pointed upward to signify the whole enclosure. "Ok?"

"Ok!" He held the skirts close to his person, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

Mick sighed, out of relief and defeat. "Alright, I'll let you try them on." He opened the curtain and stepped out. "Lemme know if you need help. I'll wait out here."

Marius placed them on the little chair in the corner. First up, a short one. He unhooked it from the hanger, and tossed the piece of plastic aside. He slid his pants down and off, and stepped into the skirt. He pulled it up to his hips. His fingers struggled to button it, unsure of how to do it. "Um...Mick? Can you help me?"

He pushed the curtain back to find Mick's back leaning on the frame. He turned around to face him. "Yeah sure. Whaddya need?"

"I-...cannot do this right." He kept trying to push the button through but the hole was too small. 

The marksman worked his nimble fingers and fastened it for him. "There. Don't forget the zipper." He zipped it up, and stood back.

Admittedly, he looked great. His slender frame was accentuated more than in his old sweatpants, they'd never do him justice. The way it shaped his rear was perfect, short enough to appreciate the look it gave for a dazzling outfit. The mer looked down and behind to see it for himself. 

"What do you think? Do I look ok?" He bit his lip shyly, hoping the answer would be a "yes."

"U-Um....yeah, you look-...really nice." His face burned a bright red. 

Another wide smile plastered the mer's face. He giggled and slid the curtain shut again to try on the next one.

Three minutes later, he parted the curtain again and displayed the next one. Mick gulped hard.

This one clung to his body and was so short, he thought it was illegal to wear something like this in public. Definitely pleather, the muted sheen of it spreading across the tight fabric over his thighs. His rear looked better in this one than it did the last. It came up a little higher on his hips, almost up to his navel. 

"What about this one?" He said, smoothing the article over his thighs and behind.

"Uuhh yup, th-that one's a keeper. Mhm." A thumbs up was all he could muster. He was too caught up in the image of how goddamn sexy he looked in that little black skirt. He internally begged him to change.

His silent request was answered as he repeated the process again on three other skirts. All of which, he looked good in. Marius couldn't decide on which one he wanted the most, until Mick said he'd pay for all of them. 

"Why don't you go pick out some shirts to go with them?" Mick said as he took the clothing from Marius's hands. He pointed to where another rack stood with a variety of shirts and tops. The mer nodded and they made their way through the store again.

* * *

  
It was around 6:30 pm by the time they made it back home. They were both exhausted from their search in town, and from the extended rays of the sun draining their energy. Mick pulled into the drive way, and parked his van. They each took two paper bags with them, and got out. They walked in to the house and Marius went straight for the couch to plop himself down. He let the bags fall from his hands. 

Mick shut the door behind him and locked it. He joined the tired mer and dropped down next to him. They were silent for a few moments. Until Marius's stomach growled. 

"If I wasn't so hungry, I would go to sleep." He said, stifling a yawn.

"Well, we can get some shut-eye after we eat," Mick got up from the couch and went into the kitchen. "Whatcha hungry for?"

"Anything." He let his body fall to lie on the cushiony furniture. 

"Ok, salmon in it is." 

* * *

  
After dinner, Mick helped Marius settle into the bed. He checked his wound and found it healing nicely. Before he left to take his own spot on the couch, Marius stopped him. "Wait."

He paused at the doorway and turned around.

"Stay with me." He extended an arm to pull him back in the room. Mick smiled softly.

"Of course. Until you fall asleep?"

"No."

"...No?" 

"Stay here tonight." He patted the space next to him.

"You mean....sleep _with_ you?" 

Marius nodded. Something in him told him to say no, but he ignored that bastard and closed the door behind him. He climbed into bed, next to his partner. The mer moved closer to him, wove his fingers with Mick's. The latter's heart soared. 

"C'mere." He guided Marius's body to lie down on his side, with him pressed against his back. One hand was under the pillows, under his head, and the other draped over his waist. He kissed his shoulder tenderly, then his neck.

Sleep crept upon them. Their eyes grew heavy until they couldn't keep them open. Within thirty minutes, Mick heard Marius breathing deeply. He smiled to himself and instinctively pulled him in tighter. He could get used to this. 


	14. Something's Coming (13)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This one is so fucking fluffy, you might get cavities. Also, I did it again. I'm sorry. ;m; I might have to slow down with the chapters because they're catching up. I want to pump out a few more chapters before I maybe continue posting with the next chapter.)

In the wee hours of the morning, something, or rather _someone_ , crept through the town of Jenson's Harbor. They were dressed entirely in black, roaming the streets in a black van. Inside, equipment beeped, a radio went in and out of tune, screens flickered to project the image of the streets it went down. The driver puffed on his cigar as he turned the corner down Mick's street.

Something spoke from his hip in broken sentences. It alerted the stranger, and he unclasped the walkie-talkie from his belt.

"Come in, Cloud! I repeat, come in, Cloud!" He blasted his voice into the device.

The voice on the other end hissed into it. "Jane, be quiet! And I told you to stop calling me 'Cloud.' We're not using code names."

"But your name is Grey, like the clouds. That is why it is your code name, sir!"

"You idiot, it's 3:30 in the morning! Stop shouting or you'll blow your cover!"

"Yessir!"

The one called Grey groaned into the microphone, smacking his forehead. "Jane, listen to me. Have you found the location?"

He pulled up in front of Mick's house, recognizing the familiar van. "Yessir. Hey, that's Sniper's van!"

"Yes yes, very good," Grey dismissed the cheerful observation. "See if you can look inside. And don't barge in. We're not ready for it yet. Call me when you see something. Over and out." _Ksscht!_ The channel went silent.

"Roger that." Jane parked the van and grabbed a duffel bag next to him. He quietly exited the vehicle and sneaked over to the house, army crawling across the lawn.

He crouched down under the windows and zipped the bag open. He pulled out night-vision goggles. Quietly, he peered over the bottom edge of the window through his goggles. It looked like a living room, but there were no figures. He scanned it one last time before crawling over to the next window. This one had blinds closed from the inside. He scoffed and moved on again.

He went around the perimeter of the house before settling on the last one. Goggles appeared from under the panes as Jane spied through the window. He saw a bedroom, the dim light from the streetlight filtered in through the sheer curtains. It cast itself upon the sleeping figures in the bed; Jane zoomed in, standing just a bit more to see over the shoulders of one of the figures. One of them was his old teammate from the Gravel Wars; he had his back to the window. Sleeping soundly next to him was his target. A person, or being, he did not recognize personally, but it fit the description that Grey Mann had advised him of. Smaller. Weaker than him. The next phase would be a piece of cake. He ducked back down under the window and pulled out his walkie.

 _Ksscht!_ "Come in, Cl--Mann, Come in, Mann," he strongly whispered into the mic.

The same voice from before sounded again. "Yes, what is it Jane? Did you find it? Is it in there?"

"Affirmative, sir!"

"Excellent! Report back to base immediately. Mann out."

"Roger." _Ksscht!_

Jane crawled back to the van at breaking speed for an army crawl. He hopped in and started it up. The engine revved and he pulled away, driving back into the darkness of the night.

* * *

  
The next morning, Marius awoke to rain hitting the windows and roof. At first, he didn't know what that noise was. He quietly got up and peeked out to see grey skies and buckets of rain being dumped from the clouds. He had never heard the sound of rain like this, battering the house. Of course he had seen it, whenever he was beached, he refused to re-enter the water because the sea is always rough when it pours.

A soft rumbling was heard from outside. That must be thunder. He had never felt more closer to it here than in the water. At least the sounds were muted and almost nonexistent. Here, they were loud, close, everywhere. Another one boomed and this one frightened him. He came away from the window and climbed back into bed, huddling closer to the sleeping Mick.

For a while, they were soft and distant. He even thought about falling back asleep when he saw a bright flash and a loud clap of thunder nearly shook the house. The noise woke Mick up with a start.

He bolted upright in bed, eyes hazy with interrupted sleep. "Tavish, I swear to god, if you're-....you're...." He trailed off as he realized it wasn't that damned Scotsman messing around with chemicals at two in the morning. He heard the constant tapping of the rain against the roof. His shoulders slouched as rubbed his face. It was just thunder. He stopped. Did he feel something shaking the bed? What in the world...?

Mick glanced over to the covered figure in the bed and peeled back the covers. It was Marius that was shaking the bed, he saw his trembling hands over his ears. His heart sank with sympathy. He must not like thunderstorms. He lowered himself down and tenderly touched his hair. The mer gasped and snapped his head up to find a worried Mick looking him over.

"You alright, love?" Sleep garbled his voice.

"N-Not really. I'll b-b-b-....I'll be fine." Another crack of thunder and he flinched.

"Hey, hey, it's ok. It's alright," the marksman cooed, gently pulling him up and closer to his upright body. He wrapped an arm around him and let Marius's head rest on his chest. His fingers traced slow circles on his shoulder. "I'm here, sweetheart, I gotcha. You're safe. Nothin's gonna hurt ya."

Marius pressed himself even closer when another flash flit across the sky. He braced himself for another loud one.

"Sssh, sssh. It's ok," Mick sighed as his eyes flicked to the window. He kissed the top of Marius's head.

He glanced at his watch: 8:12 am. Continuously, he hushed and calmed the terrified mer. Gradually, he felt him stop shaking, though his grip was still very strong. A soft rumble again, and he suddenly had an idea. He pulled his arm away and took his hands, pulling him off the bed. "C'mere, I have an idea."

Mick guided him out of the room, into the living room. He let go of his hands and left him standing in the middle of the room. He went over to a device Marius had never seen before, though it's beloved by many humans: a record player. He knelt down and sifted through thin discs in a box, searching for the right one. His fingers dug down and pulled out a cover with a man on it in some kind of flower necklace. The name "Elvis" was written in large letters on the front.

He stood and flipped the lid open. The record was removed from the sleeve and placed gently on the turntable. He flicked a switch and placed the needle in the middle of the grooves. It was the tail end of a song, the last bars fading out. The next one came on. Marius listened curiously.

"What-...What is that?" The opening bars of a ukelele softly strummed and bass being plucked filled the room.

"This is music," he turned and approached him again. "And this is something me mum did when I was afraid of thunder." He took his hands again and pulled him close to his person. One hand hooked around his waist, and the other held his hand up in the air, about where his shoulders were. He swayed his hips in time with the song, leading the very perplexed and self-conscious mer. However, Marius's feet stayed planted on the ground, he didn't know what to do.

"What are you doing?" He asked, unsure of what he should be doing.

"Dancing."

"I-I....I don't know how to do that," He broke away from his partner and backed up. Nervous eyes dashed all around the room, waiting for another strike of lightning.

Mick softened and followed him, taking his hands once more and placing them in position. "I'll teach ya. Here, stand on my feet."

"Huh?" Marius's eyes fell back on him, brow quirked, utter confusion written on his face. "Won't that hurt you?"

"Not unless you're wearin' heels, which you're not."

He eyed him with uncertainty, but gently stepped on his feet. Mick held on to him so he wouldn't fall.

A voice from the player wavered in, smooth and deep, backed by others singing in different pitches. They sang in unison, _"Wise men say 'only fools rush in....'"_

The marksman moved again, swaying his hips and stepping slowly in a circle to the beat of the song.

It was so soothing. Marius had never heard anything like it, never realized something like this existed. He was so caught up in the feeling of being protected, in the sound of Mick's heart beating calmly in his chest as he laid his head upon it, in the reverb of his voice in his chest as he hummed along, that he didn't even hear the storm anymore. The world fell away, the sound of the music drifting in the air while they danced. Mick lovingly rubbed his thumb against the small of his back. Though he couldn't see his face, he still smiled at him, resting his head atop of Marius'.  
His nerves were eased, the tremors leaving his body as he swayed with him. His eyes were half-lidded, though he opted to close them, allowing himself to listen to the lyrics. Every other verse was ended with the same phrase: "For I can't help falling in love with you." Marius found himself relating to the words as he listened. How did this person (the singer) capture such a feeling? He was amazed it could be written out and performed in the form of a song so delicate and tender. Was all music like this?

Ironically, as Marius silently related to it, it was Mick that wanted to say these words to him. No matter how far along they'd be together, at some point, he wanted to say it. He was afraid it was too soon to say those three simple words right now. But Elvis made it sound so easy, with his velvety voice and chord progressions. His mum picked out a good song. He was glad he was able to calm him down with the same method she used.

Outside, the rain slowed to a drizzle. The storm had tapered off, leaving behind a few grumbles to be reckoned with. The sky brightened to light grey instead of gloomy, dark, and oppressive. Inside, they were protected, sheltered from the maelstrom that threatened Marius with a nervous breakdown. The song drowned out the chaos of the outside world, and as it came to an end, so did his fears.

"There now, feel better?" Mick tipped his chin as he stopped swaying.

"Mhm." He gave a slight nod.

"Good." He pressed his lips to his forehead, then down on Marius's lips. "That's what I like ta hear. Come on, let's go have breakfast."

They unhinged from each other and made their way to the kitchen. Mick grabbed a few eggs from the fridge and took out a pan from the cupboards. The pan clanked with the metal grates over the burners as he set it down. Marius reached up and grabbed two plates from the upper cupboards.

_**Knock! Knock! Knock!** _

Mick was in the middle cracking eggs over the heated pan, and called out to him, "Marius, could you see who's at the door?"

"Of course!" He set the plates down on the table and scurried over to the door. The door was opened, and there stood a tall, thin, graying man, dressed in a blue suit minus the coat. His cold, blue eyes fell on Marius, and they widened.

The mer stood equally as shocked, hand gripping the brass doorknob. He took a step back. "L-....Lamarr?"

The stranger steeled himself as his name was stuttered back to him. He said nothing.

Marius glanced around the area. "Wh-What are you doing here?"

He exhaled calmly. "To find you, mon cher."

"But why?" He didn't understand this arrival.

He was about to answer when Mick approached from behind, dish towel slung over his shoulder. "Who is it, love?" He asked as he looked between Marius and the stranger. Something didn't seem right. He sensed tension between the two, hanging thick in the air.

* * *

  
Lamarr sat in an armchair, on the edge, leaning his elbows on his knees. Marius sat on the couch adjacent to it, while Mick sat next to him. The mer was quiet, avoid Lamarr's gaze, hands fiddling in his lap. The marksman copied the stranger's position. There was a pregnant silence, the questions just on the tip of their tongues. Mick was beside himself. He felt like he was in the crosshairs of some heated battle. The longer they sat, saying nothing, the more awkward it became.

He cleared his throat. "So, I didn't get your name before, what was it again?"

The stranger snapped his eyes to the inquirer. "My name is Lamarr."

"And uh...you know Marius...how?" He revolved his hands around each other.

"He is my ex," Marius cut in, hands nervously fidgeting harder. "He is one of my kind."

"You mean, he's a-"

"Tenta." Lamarr finished his sentence for him. "I look like an octopus. But yes, I am one of him."

"Oh. I-I see. So...um..what bri--"

"What are you doing here, Lamarr?" Marius cut him off, teal orbs narrowed as he glared across at his ex. His arms were folded tightly in front of his chest. The anxiety never left his fingers, they squeezed his biceps. He turned his head away, just the sheer image of him annoyed him to no end. "Have you come to kill me? Have they found out about me?"

 _"Yes."_ He answered in his native Atlantean tongue.

Marius whipped his head around, eyes wide as saucers. His arms dropped from his chest. Anger and irritation quickly turned to fear. _"I...was being rhetorical. Th-....They really have?"_

The tenta nodded. _"I have come to warn you, that if you go back, anywhere near Atlantis, even 100 miles away, they will find you and kill you."_ He paused to let it sink in, then followed up. _"I have not come to ask for you back,_ mon cher. _I know your answer, I remember it when I tried once before. It's a miracle that I found you, here, alive. I've come to take you back, protect you."_

 _"You-....I don't want to go back. And even if I did, I don't need your protection. I'm fine by myself."_ He pressed himself into the couch as if to shackle himself to it, to prevent Lamarr from taking him.

Said tenta ran a hand through his hair. "Cher, _please. You know how risky this is. Does he even know about you?"_

 _"O-Of course he does. He-....he found me when I was gravely injured."_ He averted his eyes nervously.

 _"You were injured!?"_ He leaned even more forward in the chair, gripping the armrests.

 _"I'm fine now. It's not a big deal."_ That was a lie, and if Mick could ever understand him, he knew it too.

 _"Marius, you know how dangerous it is to live with them, let alone near them. What if they killed you?"_ He stood up, the argument heated his worry.

 _"What difference would it make if they killed me if my own kind wants me dead, too?!"_ Nails dug into the couch as he practically screamed back at him. Tears stung his eyes.

Mick saw the opportunity to intervene before anything else was said, or even thrown. "Whoa, whoa, let's uh..let's all calm down now. Why don't we just have a drink and cool off for a second." He ran into the kitchen to fix some glasses of water for them. Within seconds, he was back and handed them their salty water. He took a sip of his own, plain water. "Ok now let's just...walk it back. Marius, what's going on?"

The arms were folded over his chest again, his posture more slouched and defeated as he turned away from them. "They know about me."

"Like, you and me?" He pointed to himself and Marius.

The mer nodded silently.

"And now what?"

"Lamarr wants to take me back with him. He came to warn me about them. They will kill me if I ever go near my home. I never planned on returning anyway, but even if I am near it, they will find me." He bit back tears and fought the tightness in his throat.

The marksman said nothing, the horrific news finally settled into him. He understood why Lamarr has sought him out, but there's something that he didn't agree with. So he turned to the tenta. "Listen, mate, I know you're just tryin' ta protect 'im, but....it's really up to him if he wants to go. You can't force someone to leave, and you can't force them to stay." The latter said nothing, just coolly watching his movements as he spoke. "So, Marius. What is your decision? Just so we have an official answer on the matter."

Marius turned around and stood, going to Mick's side. Slender fingers slid around his arm, and hooked it with his. The answer sounded like more of a protest against Lamarr. "I-....I want to stay with you."

Mick shrugged. "Well, there you have it."

They both waited for some kind of seething remark, but he said nothing. Cold, pale blue eyes flicked between the two of them. They closed and he sighed. "Fine. I will respect your wishes. But I will remain in this harbor, if you change your mind, or if anyone seeks you out."

The mer's shoulders dropped a little. "Thank you."

The tension decreased slightly, but Lamarr maintained his serious demeanor. "I shall take my leave, then. Marius, if you need me, you know where to find me."

Said mer nodded to acknowledge him. The tenta made his way to the door, but Marius followed.

"Wait, Lamarr. I...I'm sorry for treating you so unfair and unkind. I was wrong to assume things. I-I didn't know--"

"It's fine, _cher._ You know I could never be mad at you, no matter how fierce you can be." He leaned in and kissed his forehead. The latter accepted the parting kiss. They exchanged no more words, and he left, closing the door behind him. Marius stayed behind the door, fingertips to his chin as the relay of information reeled back over and over again in his head.

The ex sniper came up behind, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You ok, love?"

He saw the mer's eyes flash around in front of him, as if reading something. He was thinking about it, and he saw the lines in his forehead as he went further into this depth of fear.

"Mick, I'm-...I'm scared." His eyes never left the door. His voice heightened as fear gripped him, tears prickling his bottom lids. "I'm so scared. What have I done?"

"You did nothing wrong, l--"

"Yes I did!" He suddenly burst out, spinning to face him. Mick blinked, taken aback. "I betrayed my people and they want to kill me! I don't belong there, I don't belong here, I don't belong anywhere! I don't understand why I exist if I'm just-....just a mistake!" Tears flowed freely from his eyes. "Th-That's all I am! I am a curse to my parents, a stain on my society, a weakling among humans, a wasted space of a mer!" His eyes cast to the side, avoiding Mick's concerned and sympathetic gaze. His fingers weaved into his hair, holding his head. "I knew there was something wrong with me! I knew I didn't deserve this kindness! I don't deserve love because it was never meant for me! I-I don't deserve _you!_ And this is my punishment, death by being mauled by my own kind! I-..I-...."

These words broke Mick's heart. The fact that he thinks like this, thinks he doesn't deserve kindness, love, nice things, all because of a disagreement from his past, he didn't understand it. Maybe he never will, but there was a sense of empathy for him. The best thing he could do is be there for him, whenever he feels these thoughts creep upon him.  
He reached out again, gently prying his claws away from his scalp. "Don't-...Don't talk like that, sweetheart. Come here."

Mick pulled him into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and cradling the back of his head. A calloused hand slowly pet his hair. Marius's arms hooked under his and latched on to the back of his shirt, buried his face in his chest and sobbed uncontrollably. The only thing Mick could do at this moment was whisper reassurances in his ear.

"Sssh, it's ok, love. They're not gonna get to you. I won't let them. Lamarr won't let them, either. They'd have to go through both of us. You're safe, _darlin_ ,' I promise." In this moment, Mick never realized how much he wanted to protect him. Sure, from curious people, but now, it was against a whole species of creatures that threatened to take his head if they ever saw him. The advantages he had on them were his legs and the fact that he's a trained marksman, a former assassin, an ex sniper. One bullet between their eyes, and they'd be shark bait. He didn't think he would need to ever pick up his gun again, but with Marius in his life now, and the threats of an angry species, he was willing to pick it up once more.

He pulled him from his chest and held his head by the jawline, his other arm still encircling him. "Look at me. Hey. Look at me, Marius. You are worthy of love. You are deserving of love. Your past does not define you. Do you understand? It's doesn't make you who you are. I know who you are. You are kind, caring, curious, passionate, lovely, a damn good kisser, a gentle soul. All you wanted was to be loved, but the people you needed it from, they just couldn't give it to you. Why? Perhaps we'll never know, but look how many people care for you. Lamarr cares for you, Tavish cares for you, Jacques cares for you, I care for you. Hell, if me mum were still around, she'd care for you too. I want to help you see that, because out of all the things you think you deserve, a broken heart isn't one of them."

The rough pad of his thumb wiped away a tear. He gazed into those big, watery eyes that blinked back at him. "Ok?"

The mer gave a tiny nod.

"Where's that beautiful smile?"

Marius's cheeks tinged red. He couldn't suppress a small, growing smile. Mick reflected the expression. "There it is."

He pressed his lips to his forehead, then on his lips. He lingered there, tasting the saltiness of his tears, feeling the grin as he kissed him.

They parted, and their foreheads met for a serene moment of silence. Mick squeezed his arms. "Come on. Our breakfast is probably cold."


	15. Take It Easy (14)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Hey y'all! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a while. I had such bad writer's block and I hit a rut, and I got stuck. A good friend of mine helped me out, so I just want to thank them for the help. Also, super important: I made changes to the prologue and chapters 1 and 9, so before you continue on with the story, read up on those first so you'll understand the rest of the story. I didn't plan that to happen, but that same friend helped me come up with something better, so I revised a few chapters to adjust to the new ones ahead. Sorry about that. But thank you for sticking with me so far! I love you all! -Picori)

A week passed since Lamarr came back into his life, though with a new meaning purpose. Mick felt that with the tenta guarding and scouting the waters, he'd keep a close watch over the mer. He tried to keep him distracted from thinking about an impending doom that loomed over his head. He took him out on day trips, attempted to make things as normal as it could get. For the most part, it was helping.

Even though he was terrified to re-enter the waters, it was his home. So, if he ever wanted to take a swim, he'd take him to a secluded area on the beach, with Lamarr lurking nearby. He waited two weeks to try the ocean, though his body craved its natural habitat. On a sunny day, Mick decided to take him there, make it a fun day instead of constantly worrying about his vengeful brethren. He packed a bag of beach towels (lots of them), snacks, and sunscreen, and changed into his swim trunks. They threw the bag in the van and drove off to the shoreline. One last time, he checked Marius's wound; it would be alright.

He took him to a remote spot, hidden from the hubbub. A lighthouse stood tall against the sky, on the high hill and rocky cliff. It has since been abandoned and fell into disrepair. No one comes around, save for the occasional mischievous teenagers with dingy flashlights and spray paint. The area was too rocky to bathe in, but perfect for a rendezvous with a sweetheart. They trudged in the sand to reach the water, picking a spot hidden by a large boulder. Mick set up the blanket and secured it with wooden stakes with clothespins nailed on top of it. He rummaged through the bag and pulled out the sunscreen. The cap popped off and he lathered himself down until the white cream disappeared. Only part left was his back. 

"Hey love? Couldja get me back?" He turned around and held the bottle over his shoulder. 

Marius approached, but he didn't understand what he needed. "Yes, of course. But....what am I supposed to do?"

Mick forgot that mers probably didn't have sunscreen. "Ya squeeze some on your hand, then spread it all over your skin till it's all rubbed in. I did it meself, but I can't reach my back."

"Oh, I see," he still didn't understand the significance of the product. He took the bottle and squeeze a large, unnecessary amount. Mick heard the uncertainty in his voice.

"This stuff prevents humans from gettin' sunburn. We're not used to the rays like you are. So we need p-protection. Wow, I didn't expect it to be that cold."

The mer massaged the heaping pile of cool cream all over his back, and he kept rubbing but it just wasn't fading.

"I think I put too much. It will not disappear." He rubbed harder.

"Pfft, that's alright, love. Here," he bent down and gave him a towel. "Wipe off the excess with this."

He did just that, and in no time, he no longer saw any patches of white. Mick turned around and took the bottle from him, placing it back in the bag. "I'm all set. I'm sure you're itchin' to get in the water, so go ahead."

That much was true, but he still hesitated. He didn't have to say a word, for Mick saw the concern on his face. "You'll be fine. I'm here, and Lamarr's out there somewhere. Probably munchin' on a fish or somethin.'" 

The imagery made him giggle, pushing the worrying thoughts aside. He took off his clothes and tossed them on the blanket. There he stood, naked against the breeze of the ocean, his skin prickling with goosebumps in anticipation. The water called to him and he would answer it. But first, he turned around and took Mick's hands, pulling him as he walked backwards towards the water. "Come with me."

He didn't have to ask twice. At first, Mick complied and was led by the mer. Instead of walking in slowly, he jerked Marius forward and lifted him over his shoulder, earning a shout of surprise and laughter. He made a dash for the water and sprinted. His feet didn't stop when they touched the water. They kept going a until a wave tripped him and he fell forward, tossing the mer off his shoulder. 

Marius's tail had formed as soon as the water splashed his legs when Mick charged into the water. He was flung into the shallow water as Mick landed on his stomach. The cool, salty seawater was, ironically, like a breath of fresh air. His body craved it, parched and starved. Gills expanded as he breathed in, feeling the rush of water flowing through his secondary lungs. Relief washed over him a wave. He missed this. This is technically where he belongs. Deep down, he knew Lamarr was right. This human world was never meant for a creature like him. 

But, as he laid on his back, floating backwards, watching Mick shakily stand, he second guessed everything. If this world wasn't suitable for him, then why did he meet Mick? He was the one that nursed him when he was injured, showed him his world, helped him adjust to it, shared his body and mind with him. Maybe Mick was his connection, his gateway to a new life. He was willing to give up his safety, he was willing to risk leaving the ocean forever if it meant staying with him. After all, it was _he_ that put his life on hold for him. Perhaps, they could continue together. 

His thoughts were interrupted as Mick approached, standing over him like the lighthouse upon the hill. Both hands were on his hips, water dripped from his nose as looked down at the mer. He smiled warmly. "Now how does that feel?"

"It feels wonderful," he pushed himself back, farther out. The sun on his face, the smell of the briny scape, the water lapping at his sides. He wanted to go out even farther, but he didn't want to leave Mick. He suddenly had an idea. Why it hadn't occurred to him earlier, he didn't know. There's more to a mer's kiss than just romance. "I want to show you something."

The marksman briefly blew his nose to get the water out into his hand. "Sure."

Marius flipped over on his stomach and raised his arm, beckoning him to follow. 

Mick pushed through the water against the crashing waves. The floor gradually sank down, raising the water from his knees to his thighs. But the mer didn't stop. He kept swimming forward. The level went from his thighs to his hips, then to his stomach, and finally (he was thankful) his chest. Marius turned around and met with him. He was able to swim more freely around him than in the shallow water. However, this didn't look like what he wanted to show him. 

The mer came closer, up to his face. Webbed claws slid up to his jaw, and he closed the gap between them with a kiss. Mick wanted to cup his face, but the push and pull of the ocean caused him to use his arms to keep him in place. Gently, he pulled away, leaving a dazed marksman wanting more. 

"Ready?" He said softly.

The latter's eyes fluttered open, and cocked one brow. "U-Um. Yes?"

His eyes twinkled, a huge smile splitting his lips. In one swift splash, Marius dove under and grabbed Mick's hand, dragging him along. He didn't even get a chance to take a breath! Panic seized his heart, pumping rapidly and urging his lungs to breathe. But he can't! The mer's grip was strong, and he held steadfast as he bolted through the water, going deeper and deeper. He was able to break away, halting Marius in his path, and scrambled towards the surface. He was never this far down before, not without a snorkel, at least. The surface was way up high and he felt his lungs collapse. He couldn't hold any longer, though he didn't reach the top. Water rushed through his lungs as he gasped, a feeling so strange and unfamiliar, it edged his panic. This was it, this was how he died. But...he was not...drowning? He breathed hard from his mad dash and hysteria, but it was not air that he was breathing. It was water. 

Confusion, shock, amazement, and anxiety all clashed in his head. What is happening? Is he really breathing underwater? Marius came up to him from below, meeting him once more. Mick stared at him in bewilderment. The mer understood his confusion. He pointed to his lips. 

It wasn't hard for him to put two and two together, but it still amazed him. He had no idea that he had this ability, this power to change something this drastic. Whether or not it could be explained by science, he couldn't ignore what just happened. He just rolled with it, slowly taking in things from a new perspective.

Now that he understood things a little better, Marius took his hand again and pulled him along. The scene around him was terrifying yet exciting. This was open water. The coastline was behind him, the safety of the shores was getting farther and farther away. He squeezed Marius's hand. The mer peered over his shoulder to check on him, flashing him a reassuring smile. They randomly hung a left and made a 40 degree angle towards the beach. But as they got closer, the area looked unfamiliar. Rocky cliffs and jetties surrounded them, the floor raised up as they swam closer. He heard splashing, saw flashes of brown zip before his eyes. They looked like round blobs, propelling through the water. Upon closer look, these blobs were actually seals. 

Marius brought him closer to the wall of rocks, where a few congregated. One with a black spot on its nose encroached upon them, curious and inquisitive. The mer spoke to it in his native tongue, holding a hand out to touch its snout. It recognized him, pushing its head into his hand for a friendly scratch under the jaw. He chuckled at the small gesture, happy to see this little girl is much better than the last time he found her. Mick watched in astonishment. Two more came up to him and circled him. They nipped at his hair, nudged his arm for pets. Of course, he would give them some attention. They tickled his flesh with their whiskers, blew bubbles in his face, surrounded him like he was one of them.

Mick had no words to describe it, other than being in awe. He kept his eyes on Marius's. He looked so happy, so peaceful, so lovely. The blue of the water tinted his skin, rays of light filtered down in lines thick and thin, illuminating the glow of his person. His heart jumped in his chest, his cheeks flushed. He suddenly felt so sappy. That moment when the main character really sees how beautiful their love interest is? That's what he compared it to; Jacques made him watch too many sickly sweet romance movies.

His thoughts were halted when Marius turned to him as he scratched one under the chin. He nudged his head towards the seal. Go on, try it, he was saying. One hand rested on her back, petting her gently. She floated towards Mick. Cautiously, he raised his hand and stretched it out to meet her nose. It was warm and soft. He watched her movements, jerking his hand away whenever she moved her head in a direction he didn't anticipate. This wasn't working out well. The mer shook his head. He took his hand and gingerly touched her snout again; she didn't move. He guided his hand under her chin, and Mick began to scritch the soft fur. Marius smiled at his small victory. 

The others swam off, and the female pulled away to follow them. Mick watched them go, their shapes disappearing in the distance. His eyes fell to Marius, and they exchanged a smile.

* * *

  
"So they were rescued, huh?"

Mick finished ruffling his hair with the towel, and pulled it over his head. He dug in the bag for his sunglasses and put them on.

Marius patted down his shoulders with his own. They had returned from their adventure of exploring the coastline. They were settling down on the blanket, drying themselves off. He nodded in answer to his question. "Mhm. I found them tangled in nets. They are siblings. I--"

"How do you know that they're siblings?" He reached for a cold water bottle in the travel-sized cooler.

"They told me."

He was about to take a sip of his water when he pulled away, gawking at the mer. "Th-... _They told you?_ Can you....talk to them?"

"Ye--...well, almost? I can sense their feelings, their intentions. One of the boys approached me, and led me to his brother and sister tangled in the nets. I sensed that they were of the same mother, you know, siblings. I just....I remember feeling their panic, their fear, their dread. It looked like they had not ate--...eaten, in days. They were hungry, afraid, exhausted."

"I would be, too."

"Mm," he nodded. "They sought me out to ask for help. Once I found them and assessed their situation, I scrounged for a sharp object. My claws alone could not tear the netting. I found a rock with a sharp edge and used it to cut them free. But my work was not done. They were too weak to hunt for food. I brought them to a shallow wading pool, away from the jetties and piers, away from predators. I caught them fish and shellfish for days, weeks. For that time, I took over as their caretaker. I watched over them like I was their mother, though they were old enough to leave their pod. And in that time, I shared their pain, and their comfort. When they were healthy again, they left. Every now and then, I see them. They come up to say hello. I did not need a thank you, just seeing them again was such a joy."

"Yeah, I mean, I'd feel pretty gratified if I see my patients lookin' better. Oh, do you want something to drink?" His hand went back into the cooler for another water.

"Yes, please." He caught the water bottle that was tossed to him. The cap was twisted off and he took a sip. "Aah, that is refreshing!"

"Mhm," Mick nodded as he gulped down some more. "Hot day like this is perfect for a swim and cool drinks. Hey, is...is that Lamarr?"

Marius looked over his shoulder toward the ocean, his eyes scanned the surface. A head popped up just past the surf, though he couldn't see. Surely that's Lamarr because no human would be found in this area. As they approached, he made out silverish hair and pale skin. If he's returning to shore, that must mean he saw something. Marius immediately began to worry, casting Mick a troubled glance.

The tenta emerged from the water calmly, his eight legs carrying him effortlessly and smoothly. They were a dark blue, navy even, with white undersides on his suckers. Blueish rings freckled his skin, much like Marius's scales, as well as gills on either sides of his neck. His hands, equipped with equally sharp nails, were of the same hue, fading like ink stains up his forearms. He carried himself with such coolness, such dignity, that anyone who dared to cross his path should be torn to shreds without him even batting an eye. Mick was almost intimidated by him, but if it wasn't for his advantage of all those years at Mann Co., Lamarr could easily walk over him to get to Marius.

As he neared the blanket, he came to stop just before it. All eyes were on him, though he noted that they both looked stressed. He clasped his hands behind his back. "Marius, do not be alarmed. I have nothing to report," he saw the mer visibly deflate and caught Mick's sigh. "I simply wished to check on you."

"You-...You have no idea how worried I was," Mick shook his finger at him out of humor. 

"Yes, you nearly scared me dead." 

"It's....'scared me to death,' love." He gently corrected.

Marius lowered his eyes, his face turned just tinge red. "O-Oh. Right."

"My apologies, _mes amis,"_ he motioned to the blanket. "May I?"

They both waved for him to sit with them. He sat on the warm fabric, tentacles resting on the sand, while his rear sat on the blanket. Some of them twitched and explored the texture of the warm sand.

"It appears you are doing well, _cher._ I am pleased to know. But I wonder, what are your future plans?"

Mick and Marius both shared a glance of uncertainty, and stared back at him. 

"Well, I was thinkin' we could go out for a drink later," said the marksman, slowly. Marius brightened at this idea. "You could, uh, join us."

Lamarr sighed. "That is not what I meant."

"Oh, you mean like...'future' future plans. We, um....we're not sure yet." Mick gazed at Marius, who looked at Lamarr.

"I do not expect you to know so soon. I was just wondering if you had any ideas." He folded his arms, the dark blue skin of his arms criss-crossing over his pale skin, like a checkerboard pattern.

"But for the time being, why don't we just enjoy ourselves? I don't want Marius to worry every time he sees you. As serious as this is, we still have to find the light in situations like these. D'ya get my point?"

The tenta stared blankly at him, then blinked to clear his expression. "Yes, I understand. But we can not 'slack off' too often. We must always be on our guard."

"I agree with you there. But tonight, let's just relax. Have some fun. In fact, I'll invite Tavish and Jacques. How does that sound?"

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Marius beamed, clasping his hands over his heart. "I am so excited! When will we go?"

Mick twisted his wrist to look at his watch. "Well, it's about 3:30 right now. Why don't we start to head out, be back by 4:00, get ourselves cleaned up, and leave for 6:00? I still gotta call Tavish and Jacques anyway."

"I agree with this plan." He nodded, then rose up from the blanket. "In that case, I shall resume my duty until it is appropriate to 'get ready.' Gentlemen, adieu for now." Long tendrils moved to carry him back to the water.

Mick and Marius packed their things, and dried his tail so that he could return home. 

* * *

  
By 5:15 pm, Mick was ready to go. He wore white slacks, a short-sleeve dress shirt with a tropical print of leaves all over it, and brown shoes. It never took him long to get ready, and much to Jacques's misjudgment, he was always on time. He did, however, have to help Marius wash himself. There was no way he could stand in the shower, so the tub was the next best bet. 

After he left him to get dressed, he did his own routine. He was waiting for Marius to finish getting ready. Probably should've specified that they be there at six, not leave at six. But he was more forgiving. It was Marius's first time going out on the town, he didn't know the usual routine that goes with it. He glanced at his watch. 

"Hey, Marius? You almost done? We gotta leave--...leave by....b-by...." He trailed off. Marius had emerged from his room in his outfit, and it left him quite stunned. The little black skirt and a low, shiny v-neck top (he was drawn to the sparkles) were his choice of clothing, and Mick was suddenly grateful he picked those in the store; because he looked goddamn amazing. 

"How is this? Is this, um, appropriate?" He turned his body to let him judge the clothing. But the latter did not answer. "Mick? Are you alright?"

"What? Oh. Yeah. I'm alright. I just--....y-you look, um, really nice." Sexy was more like it, but he was at a loss for words. "But uh...one thing: shoes. Ya can't go barefoot."

The mer looked down at his bare feet. Subconsciously, his right foot rubbed the back of his left ankle in a shy manner. "A-Ah, yes. I did not know what to wear." He scratched behind his ear sheepishly. 

Mick blinked. "Hang on. I think I might have something." He disappeared in the back hallway and clicked on a light. The door to a closet was on the right; he opened it. There wasn't one set item in there, nor was it organized. Clothes, shoe boxes, photo albums, miscellaneous things that he threw in there when he couldn't find where it went. He dug through the stack of shoe boxes, grunting when he didn't find it, and prying his fingers in the next one. A shout of triumph was muffled into the clothes. Dust poofed out as he pulled the box from under the heavy albums. He brought them to Marius. "N-Now don't laugh, but this was meant as a gag gift from Jacques to me for Christmas one year. But, they might actually be useful, after all. They might be a little big."

Marius opened the box to find black, pointed shoes. He took them and turned them every which way. "How do I wear these?"

"I-I'll help you. Here, sit on the couch."

The mer sat down and gave the shoes to Mick. The marksman knelt down and held his foot up, took the right shoe, and slipped it on. It was a tad too big, but it's not like this was meant to be used. He did the left one. Now he was set. But something was still missing. Mick knew exactly what it was as he stared at his chest. A gold chain would look lovely, but he didn't have anything like that. He got the idea to get him something, for another day.

"There. All set?" He stood up, and pulled Marius up with him. 

"Mhm." He leaned in and kissed him. 

"Good. Let's go."

* * *

  
Jane pulled the black van up to a house adjacent to Mick's, and parked, watching for any movements. The walkie broke the silence and made him jump.

 _Ksscht!_ "Come in, Jane. Do you read me?" It was Grey.

The soldier pressed a button. "I read ya loud and clear."

"Good. Are you there?"

"Affirmative!"

"Very good. Do you remember the plan?"

"I go in and bomb the place."

"What-No, you halfwit! We've been over this a dozen times! You set the trap!" Grey snarled into the device.

"Right before I bomb the place?"

"You idiot, shut up and listen to me! There is no bombing! No explosives!" He hollered back, evident that his face was turning red.

"So what am I supposed to do with all these crates of TNT?" Jane twisted in his seat to look at the numerous boxes of dynamite crammed into the van.

"You-...Did-....Argh!" His voice faded as he threw the walkie across the room. It was a moment of static before he came back on again. "Ok. Listen. New plan. Just use water for this one, alright? Forget the explosives. Come back to base, drop them off, and just kidnap the damn thing. I am getting impatient and so are the scientists. Do you understand? No kaboom."

A light bulb went off in the vacant attic upstairs in his head. "No bombs. Got it."

"Good. Now get your ass back here and don't get in any accidents. Grey out." _Ksscht!_


	16. Taste The Tension (15)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, and happy holidays! I had mine cut short because of health issues, so I'm not a happy camper right now. But, at least I was able to post this chapter!)

The bar was a happening place that night. Regulars and never-leavers dappled the counter top, laughing, hollering, trying to talk over each other and the music. The five of them, Mick, Marius, Lamarr, Tavish, and Jacques, all congregated at one section. There were only two seats available. Marius and Jacques took the stools while the rest stood. They had their usuals, except for Lamarr and Marius. The tenta chose to not drink, while the mer was curious for a taste. This place was intriguing. He heard Mick call it a "gay bar," whatever that means.

Mick let him take a swig of his beer, but was met with a stink face. He guffawed at his expression. "Don't like it, huh?"

"Ugh, no I do not," he smacked his lips to get the taste off his tongue. "Does every drink taste like that?"

"No, not all of 'em. D'ya wanna try somethin' else?"

"Yes. Maybe something sweeter. Maybe that one?" He nonchalantly pointed to across the bar to a man with a lemon on his glass. 

"I dunno what that one is, but it could be a Long Island Iced Tea."

"Then I'll try that one."

He took a swig of his beer. "Alright, but be careful. Those taste good going down, but they'll come back and bite 'cha. 'Scuse me. An LIT, please." The bartender went about making the drink.

"What does that mean? It will bite me? Does it have teeth?" The thought of an inanimate object having teeth used for biting was disturbing, to say the least. 

"It means, ya won't feel the effects of the alcohol at first, but if ya have too much, you'll likely get sick. It works slowly." Tavish butt in, winking at the mer. "Trust me. I used to be an alcoholic. I know when enough is enough now. Just keep sippin' it, laddie, don't drink it too fast." 

Marius nodded, though he didn't understand the term "alcoholic." A glass of light brown liquid with a lemon and a straw was placed front of Mick, who then handed it to Marius.

"Here ya go, love."

He took a small sip, and noted the taste. Definitely sweet, a little tangy from the lemon, and cold. This was pretty good. He took another, longer sip. "I like it."

"Good, I'm glad," Mick held out his beer and clinked his glass. "Cheers, love."

"Shit, that's my song!" Tavish whizzed past them, dragging Marius from his seat. "Come on, laddie, have a dance with me!"

This song was nothing like the one he heard back at Mick's house. This one was upbeat, loud, almost synthetic. Everyone who was on the dance floor was moving funny, jerking their limbs, bouncing, clapping their hands. He didn't know how to dance like this. Nerves got the best of him and told him to step back. "I-I-...I don't know how to dance."

"Aw, it's easy! Just let the music move through ya! Come on, gimme your hand."

Mick watched on from the back, keeping an eye on Marius and enjoying how ridiculous Tavish was being. Jacques had crept upon him, and switched seats, taking the mer's spot on the stool. He cleared his throat.

"I see that look in your eye, _mon ami,"_ he leaned against the bar. "Do you love him?"

The marksman was caught unaware as he sipped his beer, coughing as he gathered himself. "Wh-What look? I never said anything. Is it that obvious?"

The Frenchman dead panned him. "You don't have to, yet you just admitted it. I'm amazed by how clueless you can be sometimes."

A hand ran through his hair as he sighed. "I-....Yeah. I do. I actually...felt that way from the beginning. But I didn't want ta, ya know, scare 'im off." He leaned against the counter top. "I want to get him something. Something that shows him how much I care for 'im."

"Like a ring?"

"God, no. Not a r-"

"Don't want to tie yourself down yet? Still have a few flings left in you?" Jacques sipped his dark red wine, his eyes, unimpressed and scrutinizing, as if he hadn't had a few affairs of his own, in his younger days; he couldn't be bothered with them now.

"No that's not it. I just...don't like weddings. I don't like botherin' to get all fancy, for one night, that's gonna cost a shit load of money. If we really love each other, then we can just stay together, no ceremony needed."

"How modern of you. Well, it's your life and I'm not going to tell you how to live it. If that's what makes you happy, then congratulations." He downed the rest of his wine.

"Thanks. Um, hey. Do-...D'ya think you can help me pick something out? I'm not good with fine things like jewelry." 

For once, the Frenchman was pleasantly shocked from the words that just came from the bushman. "But of course."

Mick's shoulders released the unknown tension at Jacques agreement. "Thanks, mate. 'Preciate it." His eyes fell back on Marius, watching as he attempted to copy Tavish's languid movements. But something else caught his eye. A dark figure huddling in the corner of the room. A big, hulking brute eyed Marius, watched him carefully. It was too dark to tell what color his hair was, but he assumed it was either black or brown, and it was long and swept back in a low ponytail; sharp cheekbones, thin lips, thick brows, he could certainly be deemed as handsome but the way he was eyeing the mer just rubbed Mick the wrong way. There was nothing he could do. He hadn't touched him or spoken to him, there was nothing for a case to settle a fight on. The only thing he could do was monitor him from afar.

* * *

  
"I'll be right back, laddie. You keep dancin,' I'll join ya again in a second." Tavish weaved his way through the crowd to set his empty bottle down. 

Marius was left in the drunken craze on the dance floor, moving with the shifting crowd as they danced so strangely. He downed the last of his drink, only just realizing he's all out. Could he ask for more? Can he even walk? Just one of those for someone who has never drank before is pretty heavy. His head was dizzy, he felt hot, but this song sounds pretty cool. Instead of going for another one, he chose to continue dancing. The lights were dimmer, the people swayed, their voices slurred. What a funky feeling this was.

He danced in his little spot, minding his own space, until he backed into someone. He spun around, quick to apologize. "Oh, I-..I am sorry. I did not see you there." His neck craned to see the towering figure he tripped on.

"That's alright, baby. I didn't mean to sneak up on you." Said the stranger, his voice, deep and baritone. "Did you come by yourself?"

The mer strained to hear him over the blaring of the music. "No, I am with my friends." He pointed in their direction, or at least, what he thought was their direction. The man didn't bother to look.

"I'm sorry, babe, I can't hear you over this music. Why don't you come over here," he grabbed his arm and pulled him through the crowd to a secluded corner, where it was a little quieter. "There, that's better."

"Yes, thank you. I could not hear myself think," he giggled, smoothing his hair down. 

"D'you come here often? I don't think I know your face." The stranger stretched out his arm to lean over him, blocking his path to the bar.

"No, it is my first time here." He was completely unaware of this man's intentions, though his body language was readable and obvious; he toyed with the ice in his drink.

"Ooh, I didn't think I knew you," the man purred, slipping his hand on the mer's waist. "But I'd like to know you. I'd like to know you _real_ well."

Wow, what a nice person! Marius grinned happily at the seemingly harmless suggestion. 

Over at the other end of the bar, Tavish rejoined the group. He flagged down the bartender for another bottle. "Oy, fellas! How's it goin'?"

Jacques was in the middle of his story with Lamarr and Mick when the Scotsman came back. "-So I don't think I'll be seeing him again any time soon."

Lamarr was the first to speak upon his arrival. "Where is Marius?"

"Oh I left 'im on the dance floor so I could take care 'o business." He pointed over his shoulder to the crowd bumping and grinding, absolutely confident in his information. "I told 'im I'd be right back, but I wanted to get another bottle first."

Mick and Lamarr both turned to search the area from afar, but could not see him where he was last. Immediately, the marksman's eyes darted to where he last saw the glowering figure that stalked him, but was alarmed to find him gone as well. He whipped his head back around to glance at Lamarr, who was equally as concerned. They shared a silent agreement to strip the place in search of him. In a split second, they left the bar, leaving Tavish and Jacques gaping in their wake.

"What's up with them, all of a sudden? Did I do somethin' wrong?" Said the Scotsman, scratching the top of his head. Jacques could only shrug.

Lamarr slithered in and out of the sea of bodies on the floor, while Mick pushed his way, calling out to him. They searched the edges, then the middle, but still to no avail. They met up again, hoping that the latter had found him. Mick's stomach dropped. He couldn't have gone far, he was just here! His right hand flew to his head, roughly shaking his hair while Lamarr, though he was certainly worried, remained calm. Better look some place else. Maybe the bathrooms. 

They squeezed out of the crowd and headed toward the bathroom when the tenta seized Mick's bicep and pointed diagonally to the right. It was what he feared, and his heart began to race. They cut across the area, interrupting conversations and pushing people out of their way, to briskly walk up to the perpetrator.

Marius was suddenly tugged away from the encroaching stranger, and shoved behind Mick. The man protested aloud. 

"Aw come on, buddy, leave us alone!" He griped, his mood changing from offensive to defensive.

"He's with us, and he's not interested." The marksman puffed his chest.

"What are you, his dad? Get outta here, man. C'mere, baby, le-" A large hand reached out to pull Marius back to him, but Lamarr was behind him and dragged him back before he could lay a finger on him. "What the-"

"Get your hands off of him," Lamarr spat, his expression, collected, but his eyes held venom as he glared at the offender.

"Why don't you get your hands off _me?"_ He jerked his arm free from Lamarr's grip, and balled his hand into a tight fist.

"Lamarr-" Marius tried to interject, but Mick caught the stranger's fist before it collided with the tenta's face.

"Easy, mate. Don't go lookin' for trouble if you don't want any." 

He tugged his hand out of Mick's. "I ain't lookin' for trouble, I'm just lookin' for some fun. Till you fuckers came along and ruined it. I'm outta here. Fuck you."

The mer tried to get a word in, something, to stop this. "Mick, wa-"

"Go fuck yourself, mate, doesn't take two to do that." He turned Marius around and ushered him back to the bar, with Lamarr in tow.

Tavish and Jacques welcomed them back but they were not met with happy faces. Mick paid his tab and gathered his things. "Sorry, mates, we gotta go. Marius has had enough for tonight. You can stay if you want, but we have to leave."

The ex mercenaries glanced at each other with confusion and concern, and paid their tab as well. Outside, a scene unfolded.

Marius broke free from Mick's tight hold, stumbling back. "Mick, what is wrong with you? Why did you do that?" The group halted in their steps.

The latter reached for his hand, "Marius, not now, love. I'll explain it later." But the mer avoided his grasp.

Alcohol slurred his speech, but not to the point of public indecency. "Why-Why were you so...so mean to him? What did he do to you?"

"It's not what he did to me, he did nothing. It's what he was _gonna_ do to you. Now come along, you're drunk-"

"H-How do you know what he was gonna do? You weren't there for-...weren't there for our conver-..sation." Tension began to boil, the remaining three backed away. but Lamarr was ready to defend Marius at a moment's notice.

Mick was losing his patience with him, forgetting that he was indeed drunk and unfamiliar with human customs. "I just do, ok? I've seen creeps like him before, and he's gonna do what he does to everybody. And I wasn't gonna let that happen to you."

"That's not an answer. Why do you think you know everything? Why do you think-Why do you think you know what I want, all of a sudd'n? You don't know me well enough t-"

The marksman spun on his heel to face the mer, "He was gonna _fuck_ you, ok?! He was gonna fuck you, and toss you aside like a used napkin, and then you'd cry about it like you always do! That's--That's like your defense mechanism! You cry about shit! It's no wonder you're so easily hurt, it's because your automatic response to somethin' you don't understand is to cry! Am I right or am I wrong? I stopped him from layin' a finger on you because I know what would happen: you were gonna get hurt!" He came out of his boiling outburst with such a fever pitch that it took him a second to look at everyone's faces. Tavish and Jacques turned their backs, Lamarr glared at him, and Marius....

 _Shit._ His face was screwed in alarm, unraveled in hurt and grief. Mick tried to back pedal but it was too late. He said what he said. "Marius-....That's not-....I didn't mean that, love. I'm sorry. I-" he took a step towards him, but the latter back away, curling into himself.

"D-Don't-....t-touch me." He bit back inevitable tears, bottom lip quivering. His breath struggled to stay steady, but he was already gasping from silent sobs. 

"Sweetheart, please, I-I didn't mean that-" Another step, and Marius took two back.

"I said don't touch me!" He unfurled his arms and clenched his fists at his sides. "I-I'm sorry I do not understand m-many things. I'm s-sorry that you feel...l-like I am a burden to you. B-B-But you....did not have to yell...a-at me." Hot tears spilled down his face.

Lamarr was at his side in an instant, but Marius side stepped him too. "D-Do you think of me that way too?"

"Of course not, cher." He tried to get closer again, and this time, he didn't move. The tenta took his arm and guided him away from Mick. "Tell me where you want to go. You don't have to go back with him."

The mer wiped his eyes, and sniffled. "No. I want to go back. But I do not want to talk to _him."_

Jacques and Tavish took that as their cue to leave, and bid them good night (and good luck). Lamarr helped Marius into the van, and shut the door. Mick turned the key and drove away, both remained in silence. The tenta went back to the sea to resume his post.

* * *

  
They arrived home in silence, got undressed in silence, and went to bed in silence. Mick's heart was gripped with guilt and shame. How could he do that to him? He let it go too far, and now the damage was done. He wasn't even sure if he still liked him at this point. Then again, maybe it was enough to allow him to sleep next to him, in the bed. But everything was wrong. Marius shouldn't be crying because of him, they shouldn't be going to bed, upset with each other. 

How could he make this up to him? As he laid his head on the pillow, facing away from the mer, he thought long and hard. Even if he tried to talk to him, Marius wasn't willing to do so. Maybe it was best to sleep on it. Wait. At the bar, he told Jacques he wanted to get him something. He could apologize with that! Oh, but he'd explain that he's not trying to buy back his love. Yes, that sounded like a good idea. First thing tomorrow, he's going to call Jacques and go out to the jeweler. He'll sneak out while he's asleep.

Marius was quiet as Mick went over his plans in his head. He was too dizzy to move, too hurt to talk. He did his best to keep his sniffling to himself, but every time he did, Mick's heart cracked even more. He was tired. Sleep sounded so wonderful right now. Nothing to worry about, cry about. The last few droplets of his tears fell on his pillow as he drifted off to sleep.


	17. Taken (16)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Welp, I meant to post this but didn't-This one's long, so hold on tight.)

Mick woke up bright and early to get a jump start on his day. The clock read a quarter after eight, and Marius was still sound asleep. Everything was good so far. He got up gently, not to make any harsh movements to shake the bed. First, he got dressed. Some casual clothes are fine. Next, he called Jacques. He grabbed the phone in the kitchen and dialed his number.

 _Brrrr...Brrrrrr.....Brrrr--Kch--_ "Hello?" 

"Jacques? It's me, Mick." He spoke quietly into the phone.

"I know who it is," he groaned, voice laced with grogginess. "What is it? What do you want?"

"I was, uh, I was wonderin'...if you can come with me to the store today. I want to pick something up for Marius." He scratched his hair line.

"Oh. Yes, I remember you mentioning that last night. I didn't know you wanted to do it the next day."

"You're right, I wasn't planning on doing it so soon, but after last night...w-well, you were there. You, um, you know what happened." He felt the guilt squeezing his heart.

"I understand," he gave a tired sigh. "Alright, I'll come with you. What time?"

"Well, it's," he glanced over his shoulder at the clock hanging above the sink. "Half past eight, so let's shoot for nine?"

"That's doable."

"Good. I'll come pick you up around then. See you later." Mick hung the phone on the receiver, and continued getting ready.

* * *

  
Before he left, he wrote Marius a note and left it on the nightstand. It didn't occur to him that maybe he _couldn't_ read, but he left it there anyway, just in case. He went out the back door.

Grey skies were above, and he contemplated taking an umbrella. But that would mean he'd have to go back inside and grab one. He checked the time and decided against it. Boots thumped down the driveway as he went to his van. He checked his back pocket for the last time to make sure his wallet was there, and was pleased to find it there. He jumped in and started the car. While he was fixing his mirrors, he noticed something. Was that black van always there? Did Mr. and Mrs. Greene, the neighbors, get a new car? He shrugged it off, and drove away, thinking nothing of it.

Across the street, the door to the van opened, and out popped Jane, geared for his next assignment. He made absolutely sure that the van was out of sight, turned the corner, and that's when he began his mission. 

He sneaked over to the house, tried to be as swift as a serpent. That was not as easily accomplished as his former team member, Jacques. Jane was built like a bull, bulky, solid, a mass that was hard to stop once it picked up speed, so slinking around the perimeter was not as graceful as his counterpart, the Spy. In spite of his efforts, he made it to the back of the house without making a sound. This was self-congratulatory.

Though he doubted it would be open, he tried the handle to the door, and--it was actually unlocked. This was much easier as he anticipated. He crept through the door and found himself in a kitchen.

Back by the bedroom, Marius stirred. His arm flopped on Mick's side of the bed when he flipped on his side, he expected it collide into his back, but found him gone. He cracked one eye open, and his assumption was correct. Mick wasn't there. He wasn't in the room at all. Marius sat up with resistance in his body, urging him to just go back to bed. But something didn't seem right. Mick would have told him where he was going. Did he leave him? He couldn't have, this was _his_ own house. Maybe this was a human thing, leaving after a fight, though he didn't understand why--

His eyes fell on a piece of paper with a note scribbled on it. It was torn, probably from a large piece to leave a smaller one. There was a message that he struggled to decipher. He rattled his brain for memories of reading words written on sunken ships and soiled treasures. He sounded them out aloud and painstakingly slow.

"'H-...Had....T-O...to.......run.....s-..S-O-...M-E....some.......er--...E-R-R-...A--N-D-S-.....e-errands? errands. Be--.....ba-...back......S-O--...soon. Mick.'" 

The note was returned to the nightstand, and he sat for a beat of silence. He must not want to talk about last night, he'd rather avoid him altogether. Well that sounds very childish of him. Why would he do that? He pushed the covers off of him and rose from the bed. Crust dotted his lower lids from the dried tears of last night; he rubbed them away. Both hands raised over his head and stretched his body, hearing a few pleasant pops and cracks. Better just wait till he comes home. In the meantime, breakfast sounded wonderful.

The mer stumbled out of the bedroom, the effects of the alcohol bringing pain to his head that he never felt before. Is that normal? Maybe this is what Tavish meant by "comes back to bite you."

No, wait. Mick said that. It was Tavish that explained it. Ah, but what does it matter? He-

_**CRASH!** _

Marius froze in his tracks. _What_ was that? There was no one else in the house but him. Right? _Right?_ Hair stood on the back of his neck, his muscles tensed. He had a very bad feeling about this. What could've made that noise? He pressed himself to the wall, sliding himself along until he reached the corner. He heard more noises. Thumping, rattling, something that sounded like metal. _Someone_ was in the house. Who, he didn't know. If it was any of Mick's friends, they wouldn't be so careless, trying to hide. They'd announce their arrival. He waited, hoping it was one of them. 

Seconds ticked by, and no voices came to verify his theory. His stomach dropped. If it's not any of them, then who or what is here? His heart was thumping so loud, he was sure the intruder heard it. He didn't know what to do. The noises suddenly stopped, and all was quiet again. That didn't mean he could relax just yet. He pressed on.

Cautiously, he turned the corner, into the kitchen. Nothing out of the ordinary, except--there was glass on the floor. Broken glass. That must have been the source of the crash. What caused it to fall, he did not know. He didn't want to know, but he'd find out anyway, for a shadow lurched behind him, waiting to pounce. Marius saw them out of the corner of his eye, and he went rigid. The looming presence of the intruder was drawn out, that is, until he whirled around and slashed his claws at the offender.

Jane stumbled back as Marius whipped his sharp nails across his chest, ripping a small portion of the fabric. He lunged forward, but the mer slipped out from underneath him and fled in the opposite direction. The soldier growled at him. "C'mere, cupcake!"

Marius rounded the couch, pushing it between him and the intruder. He moved left, and the mer scooted in the opposite direction. He moved to the right and repeated the movement. Any which way, he'd flee. So Jane pushed the couch to topple it over and Marius back pedaled into a bookcase. Some of them fell from the force of the impact. He picked some up and threw them at Jane. The latter ducked and dodged them until one clocked him in the head, stunning him for a brief second.

That was his window of opportunity. His best bet was to run past him and out of the house, scream for help, alert the neighborhood that he was being chased. 

He skid past him, back into the kitchen. The door was just feet away. Frantically, he searched for something, _anything,_ to defend himself as the sound of heavy boots clambering from behind him grew louder, coming from the living room. A chair was shoved in his path, and Jane tripped and fell on it, breaking it, snarling in pain. Marius grabbed a knife from the set on the counter and pointed it at his assailant. His hands shook tremendously, slicing through the air in attempt to wound him. Jane jumped and evaded his attacks, throwing punches of his own and squaring Marius in the jaw and ribs. For a hot second, the mer stumbled back. The latter wasted no time in wrestling the knife out of his hands. He was no match for the trained mercenary. His strength outdid him tenfold. Jane was successful in restraining him in a headlock. 

Sharp nails raked at his arms, ripping the fabric and reaching the skin underneath, his legs kicked and jerked. Blood trickled from wounds as Marius made a scratch post out of his arm. The latter yelped and loosened his grip, which the mer slipped out of, scrambling to distance himself. Jane cradled his shredded arm. They were both out of breath, Marius more so and totally shaken. He spotted the knife just feet away and he snatched it before the assailant could. The utensil was pointed at him once more as the mer stood, knees practically trembling.

"D-Don't come any closer!" His voice faltered as fear gripped his soul.

The soldier scrambled to get to his feet and was met with the threatening knife. It was a standoff between the two, the door just behind Jane. One step closer and he'd stab him, and on the other end, one falter and he'd attack him. Water dripped the from the spout, like the heartbeat of the scene. _Drip. Drip. Drip. **Drip.**_ Grey's word echoed in his skull, from their conversation on the new plan: "Use water, if you have to. It'll render him useless."

Jane suddenly had an idea. Slowly, he moved towards the sink, Marius never took his eyes off him and followed the end of the knife with his movements. 

"S-Stop! Whatever you're doing, stop! I-I won't hesitate t-to harm you!" Tears prickled his eyes. Mick really was right. He does cry for everything, every little thing. He can't even sound intimidating.

"Listen here, fish man. We can do this two ways: the easy way or the hard way." He straightened himself as he reached the sink, casually putting his hands behind his back. 

"I-I don't understand." 

"You either come quietly, the easy way, or I take you by force, the hard way." He carefully reached the retractable hose on the sink, pulling it slowly to grasp in his hand.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" His grip tightened on the handle.

"I figured you'd say that. Alright then, don't say I didn't try to reason with you." Jane turned on the water from the sink and whipped the hose out from behind his back, and aiming right at the mer. The water that flowed from the faucet was diverted to the nozzle as he squeezed the trigger. Marius flinched as he sprayed him, wetting his entire body. The knife fell from his hands and clattered on the floor. His legs buckled and formed his tail in the blink of an eye, and he, like the knife, fell and collapsed on the tiled floor. His head hit the hard surface so hard, sending surges of pain from the point of impact. His vision got fuzzy, saw something like a net spring over him, tried to shield himself from it, the last face he saw was Jane's smug grin under his helmet, then his vision went black.

The soldier wasted no time. The mer was unconscious, his body laid motionless. Jane tied up the net and draped a cloth over him. He hoisted the heavy creature over his shoulder and fled out the back door. The rear doors to the van flung open and he threw the mer inside. He quickly slammed the doors and hopped in and drove off, skidding his tires on the pavement.

* * *

  
"Marius, I'm home!" Mick stepped through the back door after returning home from his "errands." He hadn't realized shopping for the right gift with Jacques meant going into so much detail. He had stayed out longer than he planned, which was only supposed to be an hour. Instead, it was two. His boot stepped on a pile of broken glass in the kitchen. "What the--"

As he entered further into the kitchen, he noticed things were in disarray. A broken chair, a knife on the floor, _blood,_ a puddle of water. This was not how he left it. A terrible ache in his gut surfaced. Something happened while he was out. This looked like a crime scene, right out of the movies. He set his keys and the gift down on the table. He called out to him again. "Marius? Sweetheart, I'm home."

The living room was no better. The couch was overturned, the books from the shelves were scattered everywhere. He spun on his heel and dashed into the bedroom. His heart stopped when he did not find Marius where he had left him. He knew it. This _was_ a crime scene, this was an abduction. Someone kidnapped him, right under his _fucking_ nose. Shit, shit, shit, shit! This is not happening! This is _not_ happening! His hand nervously ran through his hair, eyes flicking everywhere, hoping that maybe he was just playing with him. He called out again as he spun on his heel to go back into the living room. "Marius! Answer me, love! Please! This--This isn't funny!" But nothing. Not even one peep.

His blood ran cold. Marius was _**gone.**_

He bolted out of the room, back into the kitchen. He swiped the keys off the table, leaving the gift behind, and sprinted out the door to his van. Tires screeched as he sharply turned out of his driveway and down the road. His foot laid on the gas pedal like he was in a race. In a way, he was. He had to get to Lamarr. All along the shoreline, the van sped down the highway. He took a sharp left to where they were yesterday, on the beach.

Mick fell out of the car and made a mad dash to the water. He called out for him. "Lamarr! Lamarr! Dammit, where the fuck are you?!" His eyes scanned the ocean erratically. 

Just then, the tenta emerged from the water. He must not have heard him, but it was perfect timing to surface. The marksman sprinted to him, met him as he left the water, though the sudden abrasive meeting caused him to leap back.

"Oh, it's just you. Do not rush at me-"

"Lamarr, he's gone. Marius. He-He-He-He-He's been abducted," Mick struggled to convey the news through gasps. "Someone-....Someone broke in, a-and took him."

It hit him slowly, the realization dawning on his face into an expression he thought he'd never see on the usually-reserved tenta. His eyes grew wide, exposing pale blue irises to their fullest, his brows knitting together, creating lines of worry etched into his forehead, his lips twitched, struggling and failing to form words. This was his nightmare. This is exactly what he was there for, back in his life, and he failed to protect him. 

"Ma-...." His voice faltered, shaken, unbelieving.

The carpet was pulled out from under his feet. He was gone. They lost.

No. Not yet.

Lamarr dropped his head, rubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers, washing his face of his true emotion. He picked it back up, and his features were less extreme, though the grief remained in subtlety. 

"We must find him." He said, allowing no room for argument in his strict tone.

"But how? We have no idea who took him. We have nothing to work with. Besides, this is a job for the police." The marksman went over the points that prevented them from obtaining the captor.

The tenta narrowed his eyes, scathing his very existence. "You cannot go to the police because he is a _mer._ If they were to find out who or what he is, they'd take him for themselves. For all we know, they could have taken him! We have to do this ourselves. No outside sources, other than the people you can absolutely trust. Do I make myself clear?"

Mick nodded, now agreeing with his lecture.

"Good. Now. We can't be here, chatting about this. We are getting nowhere just standing here. Take me back with you, and we'll gather our resources."

* * *

  
Marius awoke covered by a sheet, found that his hands and tail had been bound, and a piece of cloth tied tightly across his mouth. The last thing he remembered was confronting the intruder and then-and then....everything went black. He couldn't recall what happened. The dull ache in his head was the trigger for this unreliable memory. 

How long had he been out? What's going on? He started to fidget in the back, causing enough movement to alert the driver.

"Rise and shine, fishy. Hope you had a nice nap. We're pullin' up now, so hang tight."

The vehicle slowed to a stop in front of a wire-fenced gate with a key pad just feet in front of it. Jane rolled down the window and reached to out press a button. 

An electronic voice came from the pad. "PLEASE ENTER AUTHORIZATION CODE."

The buttons beeped as he pressed in his sequence. There was a brief pause, followed by the voice again.

"AUTHORIZATION CODE VERIFIED. OPENING GATE."

There was a whir of mechanical systems and the gate parted all the way to allow the van to pull through. Shortly after passing, it moved to close them, preventing any possible followers.

Tires crackled on gravel as the van was driven up uphill to a facility painted in white. There were no signs, no numbers, just a huge, inconspicuous building hidden away from the world, guarded under tight security. 

Marius had no idea where he was, other than the fact he was not at the house anymore. He knew he had been kidnapped, by that man, and taken somewhere. Somewhere to his end. This is what the mers feared, this is the bogey man story of the humans. All those warnings and stories from his childhood flooded his mind, cause panic to arise in his chest. He was going to die here, wherever this was, at the hands of humans. Fear struck his breast. He tried to move, but his hands were fastened so tight to his tail that he strained his muscles if he so much as jerked the wrong way. His throat felt like it was being suffocated from the tightness, tears springing forth. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath too fast for his body to keep up with. 

The vehicle came to a stop and the engine was turned off. He heard the front door open and slam, then nothing. Muffled voices came through the siding of the van, but he could not hear what they were saying. The doors to the back flung open, causing light to infiltrate the trunk and cast its spying eye on the bundled mass under the tarp. The van shook and was still again. Heavy boots sounded right next to his head. He felt large, calloused hands on his torso, and many others on his tail, pulling and pushing him out of the trunk and onto something cold. So cold, he jumped upon contact.

The surface started to move, away from the outside and into darkness. The doors slammed shut and more mechanical whirring as a large, metal gate dropped from above and closed like a garage door. Several hands held him down firmly and pushing him through twisting corridors. He heard some of the conversations passing.

"Is that it?"

"Oh wow, it's finally here."

"--signment. Oh shit, oh my god, it's-...it's actually here."

He was the "it." A million eyes followed his covered his body down the halls, yet he felt them all burning on his skin. 

The table made a sharp right, and double doors flew open to wheel him to the main chamber. He was pushed a little farther until it finally stopped. No warning was given as the tarp was pulled off of his shaking form. Bright lights blinded his vision, obscuring the faces gathering to look at him. A short man advised them to stay back, his voice was the loudest.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our mermaid!" His arms stretched out, and the group cheered and applauded. 

Jane came bumbling in, trailed by two guards. 

"Ah, here's the man we owe it all to! Jane, you sly fox, you did it!" But Jane was not gloating nor was he even happy. He looked furious, frazzled. 

"We had a deal, Mann! You're supposed to pay me, but I didn't see a paycheck in my locker!" His gruff voice echoing through the terrible acoustics, the applause dying out.

Grey turned to him, keeping his cool though he felt the situation slipping from his fingers. "Yes I know, Jane. But you forget, in your contract, I'm not obligated to pay you until I see fit. I make the rules, remember? This is my company," he walked past him, his smug grin making Jane's blood boil. "Your team may have disbanded, and Mann Co. dismantled, but it's mine now. I own you. Now, be a good sport and...go polish your grenades. Leave the work to the smart people." He waved his hand dismissively.

The crew began their work of prepping him for examinations, with Jane shoved off to the background. The bonds were removed and he played coy with the scientists. They scribbled their notes on their clipboards, completely unaware that he was about to strike. He swiped his claw in one swift movement, slicing the arm sleeve of one of the doctors. His tail pushed him off the table and fell on his stomach on the floor. The people in lab coats backed up, one of them shouting "Watch it, it's loose!"

He dragged his body against the tiles looking for an exit, a sign of the outside world. Everywhere he looked there were humans, more humans, more doors and walls. A team of security personnel bustled through the top stair well and down the stairs to the ground floor. They backed him against a large, glass tank, filled with saltwater. They pointed their weapons at him, though he did not what they were. He hissed and snarled at them, attempting to get them to back off. They stood their ground and closed in on him one step at a time. He flung his tail around to knock a person off their feet on the end, and slashed at another that got just a little too close. 

Something pierced his skin, and caused his body to convulse in pain. He shrieked, the haunting sound bouncing off the walls and ceiling. It felt like an electric eel had used its electricity to shock him, a million jellyfish stings in one. He lost control of his bodily functions, and relieved himself. It surged through his body until it suddenly stopped. He was weakened, disoriented, defeated. He collapsed, his vision fuzzy but not fading. 

The guards backed up and allowed the medical team to come through. Hands were all over him again, they stuck things to him, poked him, prodded him, connected wires to him, stuck him with a needle twice (once for drawing blood, and twice for intravenous fluids). They worked together to lift him onto a net (and he knew it was net because he was once trapped in one). This net was pulled from above, hoisted up by a hook, scooping him up like a fresh catch-of-the-day trap. Higher and higher it went, higher than the 20 foot tank. It jerked to moved him over the tank, right smack in the middle, over the water. One side of the net was release, and he was dropped into the tank. The mer drifted down, motionless, stunned, crushed. He reached the bottom and still didn't move. The wires were tugged as the water moved from the splash, a constant reminder that he was shackled to this place. 

Gradually, he came back around. His movements were slow and small. It took every ounce of energy to push himself up to observe his prison. All around him were faces, ogling and gawking. There was nowhere to escape, nowhere to hide from these hideous creatures. They bore into his trembling soul, tore at his flesh with their eyes. He shuddered. 

He backed himself against the glass, pushing himself as far away as he could get in the confines of the tank. It was not enough. Despair gripped its iron teeth in his heart. The fear of the unknown terrified him. The stories from his youth were true, and he would be the first to verify them. But not even his own kind would save him. They were out to kill him in the ocean. While they were busy watching the waters, they should have been watching the world. Mick was right. That town had eyes and ears all over.

The name rang in his head. Mick. The last person he saw. The last time he saw him was last night, outside the bar. Nostrils flared, sharp hand gestures, raised voice. That's not the memory he wanted to remember him by, but it was the most jarring and the most recent. He didn't even get to say how sorry he was for worrying him, didn't even get to wake up next to him, kiss him good morning, let him know that things were going to be ok between them. His tail curled around himself, his arms held each other, and he rocked. 

There were no tears. Tears do not exist underwater. Only muted sobs and nervous mannerisms. He thought back to the thunderstorm, when he was afraid. The song that Mick's mother played for him to soothe his fear. That velveteen voice, the soft vocals, the harmonies of the instruments. He couldn't remember the lyrics, but the tune, he hummed it softly to himself. Somewhere, deep down, in the very depths of his heart, he knew he'd never see Mick again.


	18. Where Do We Go From Here? (17)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So........I heard the news about Mr. Rick May, and I know we're all hurting inside. The last time I posted a chapter, this whole pandemic didn't even happen yet. Things are changing drastically, and it's scary. And it's ok to be scared, because I certainly am. As long as we all do our part, we can get through this. There's a lot that's going to happen between now and a year later. I think....I'd like to dedicate this chapter to him. It's actually a good turning point, and this couldn't be more appropriate. So this one's for you, Soldier. Godspeed, you magnificent bastard.)

They didn't get any sleep that night. Lamarr had been brought to Mick's house to make it easier to communicate instead of driving all the way back to the beach and relaying their finds. They spent the rest of the day analyzing the layout of the crime scene, took pictures, noted anything that looked particularly suspicious (although everything was suspicious, in this case). A part of them refused to acknowledge that this was actually happening, that he was abducted. But each time Mick looked around the house and didn't see him coming from the bedroom, or following him into the kitchen, he was reminded of this cruel reality.

In a way, they blamed themselves. Maybe if Mick hadn't exploded the night before, he might still be here, because it happened while he was out, looking for a gift. And maybe if Lamarr had realized the dangers of humans more than mers, he could have prevented this whole catastrophe. They failed to protect him, when they had promised him that they would. Mick felt disgusted with himself. The last thing he remembers seeing him was the night before. He yelled at him, called him out on his behavior, something he never should have done. He can't take that back. And now, he can't even apologize to him. He hated seeing him cry, but it hurt even more knowing that _he_ made him cry. The look on his face when he raised his voice, how he made his person appear smaller by tucking his arms into his body, the tears that rolled down his cheeks, and the utter shock and betrayal in his voice when he shouted back at him. Mick's heart was breaking, but not nearly as much as Marius'.

Lamarr was the only one that showed little to no emotion on this matter. Even Tavish and Jacques were aghast and disheartened to hear the news. Mick couldn't tell what he was thinking, his facade always cool and collected. But he'll never forget that split second of a reaction that he saw on the beach. That panic, that disbelief. Something this tragic was too much to wrap their heads around, and yet, here they were.

That first night was hell. Mick couldn't stop thinking about where he is, where he could be, what could've happened to him. To even think of him hurt, or even....it made him sick to his stomach, wanted to vomit at such an image. It provoked such a murderous fire in him that he'd slaughter anyone and everyone who is involved. He was beginning to think Mann Co. may have had a lasting effect on him, how he wanted to see their heads roll, or burst into a fine red mist above their shoulders the second he pulled the trigger. He thought he'd never have to use his rifle ever again, but drastic times call for drastic measures. There was no argument about it, and Lamarr silently agreed to let him fuel his anger when they find him.

When they find him. They didn't even know where to start. They had been up all night, tossing and turning, lamenting their actions or lack thereof. Mick sat up in his bed, and swung his legs off the edge. He stood, went right to the dresser and threw on a pair of pants. Not wishing to disturb Lamarr on the couch, he tip toed into the kitchen. He was about to flip the light on, but rethought this decision. It would be too bright not to wake up the tenta. A flashlight would be better. He went to the miscellaneous drawer, sandwiched between the utensils and the cooking gadgets, and pulled out a bulky flashlight. It felt heavy. Batteries were still in. But do they work? _Click!_ A bright, round, white cone flicked on the cupboards above.

Perfect. Now, if Marius had come in over--

"Holy shit!" Mick fumbled to catch the flashlight as he panned around to the doorway, and found someone standing there.

"What are you doing?" Lamarr was in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the frame with his arms folded.

"Trying not to have a goddamn heart attack! Jesus Christ, you scared the shit outta me," he leaned forward, rested his hands on his knees. He felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest, if it didn't already. "Fuck. You don't understand. My line of work always had me checkin' behind me back for spooks like you. Jus--...Just a little triggered, tha's all." The ex sniper straightened himself out, taking a few deep, slow breaths. Once he regained his composure, he put his hands on his hips. "What-..What're you doin' up?"

"I should be asking you that." He retorted.

"I asked first."

"Fine. I could not sleep. I saw you go in to the....kitchen. That's what this is called, _oui?_ " His finger pointed to the floor.

"Mhm."

"Right. I saw you go into the kitchen and followed. Why are you up at such an hour of the night?"

"Same as you. Couldn't sleep. I don't think I _can_ sleep. Not until I--...until _we_ find him. So I got up to look for more clues."

Lamarr sighed. "I understand, but we will not be helping him unless we are well-rested, with clear minds."

"I know," he said, pulling out a chair from the table, flipped it around, and straddled it, folding his arms over the top. "But I just--.....Half of me can't believe it. That this actually happened. And the other half does, and I want to push through the night, looking for answers, never sleep until we find him. I can't sleep knowing that he's not where he should be, knowing that he's not safe."

The latter also a pulled out a chair, did not straddle it. He sat down with the chair angled at Mick. "I share your feelings, _mon ami._ I cannot help but feel contradicted in myself. I would rather starve myself, let myself go mad without sleep, just to bring him back. You know, once I had heard that he met a human, you, I was furious. I was ready to kill you, thinking you were going to harm him. I set out to find him again, and there I was, at your doorstep. After you had shown me kindness, unlike the stories of my people, I began to doubt them. I was surprised to know that not all of them are terrible. However, I let my guard down. I let them get too close to him."

"Mate, it's not your fault. It's mine. This--"

The tenta quickly cut him off. "No, the fault is mine. I shouldn't have let him get too close to you. I should have taken him myself so that this wouldn't have happened."

"But would he ever forgive you for doing that?" For once, Mick had the upper hand. He knew the answer, and so did Lamarr. "Look. I should have known that keeping a mer among us would wind up in a disaster. We're horrible creatures. We destroy everything that we touch. There's--....It's just not possible to keep someone like him concealed from them. They always find a way to exploit it."

"It is no one's fault here.You just categorized them yourself. You do not associate yourself with 'them.'"

The marksman grimaced. "God, no. I'm aware that other creatures, other beings live on this planet. I let things live and die as it should be. Me parents taught me that. I never consider myself part of the 'discovery crowd' or 'destroy the environment for the sake of humans crowd.' That's what I don't like about my kind. Why do we take and take and take?"

"You and me both, _mon ami_. I am just glad we can agree on your kind." Mick chuckled grimly. He stood from his seat. "I guess we better get some shut-eye, or how ever many hours we can manage to sleep. I'd settle for two." He pushed the chair back under the table.

Lamarr stood as well. "I agree. We will need our energy." They shuffled out of the kitchen and bade each other good night for the second time that evening. They filed into their respective rooms, Lamarr, on the couch, and Mick, in his room. Exhaustion tugged at their conscience, pushing them to just close their eyes. This might be the last time they'll sleep well for a long time.

* * *

Marius couldn't sleep even if he tried. He was so shaken up, so frightened that he trembled. Every few hours, they'd come in again, pull him out of the tank, take tissue samples or blood, check his vital signs, and throw him back in for him to wait for them again and again. How much do they need from him? At this rate, they're going to pick him apart until there's nothing left of him. The least they did for him was dim the lights in the facility.

He wanted to be back home, with Mick. He didn't want to worry about how many times they're going to pluck him from the tank, or how many times they're going to rip scales off his body.

Wait a minute. Home. He hasn't had a home in over 25 years. But when he thinks of Mick, he feels at home. He feels like that's where he belongs. In this world, where his brethren spite him and humans exploit him, he doesn't belong there, he belongs with Mick. Mick _is_ home. For once, in his entire life, he felt wanted. He didn't need anybody or anything else, just Mick.

But why did it take a kidnapping for him to realize this? The phrase "you never know what you have until it's gone" suddenly made so much sense. He had a place to go back to when he was weary from the day, he had someone who loved him endlessly. At least, he believed so. He never actually said it to him. But neither did Marius. And now, his chance is wasted. He'd never be able to tell him. His throat was getting tight again. His hands flew to his face to hide it, sobs racking his body.

From the shadows of the dimly lit room, Jane watched as the mer moved about in the tank. He had never seen something so....so graceful, so extraordinary, so....sad. A pang of guilt struck his heart. He was suddenly outraged. He never felt guilty for anything that he has done. The neck snaps, the bear wrestling, the robot slaughtering, everything was in the name of freedom! And if they weren't manly enough to face this American, then they were cowards! This thing barely put up a fight, it wasn't even considered a breathing life form in his book. So why, then, did he feel sadness whenever he looked at the mer? If this creature was beneath him, why did he care? He did it for the money. Did it for the money. Kidnapped a poor, defenseless creature and trapped it. He saw the despair in his eyes, the invisible tears, the lost will to fight. This was something that couldn't fend for itself against a trained mercenary like him. This needed to be preserved, in the great waters of America.

Jane slowly emerged from the darkness and approached the tank. He reached out and touched the Plexiglas. Marius was doubled over in grief, in the far right corner of the tank, his shoulders visibly shaking with each sob that rattled his body, his face, hidden and cupped behind his webbed claws. The soldier's body blocked the light from the mer, and he noticed the change. He picked his head up, and immediately pressed himself against the back panel of the glass tank. He knew that figure, it was the man that kidnapped him, brought him here, in this god-awful place. What more could he possibly want with him?

It was the look of fear that broke his heart. He didn't _really_ want people or things to fear him. He just wanted to be seen as their equal. Jane knows he's not the smartest, but he was so tired of everyone laughing at him. So he trained hard, learned hand-to-hand combat, excelled at using a rocket launcher, to show people that he means business, that he's not to be taken lightly. But after years of warfare, he forgot how to be gentle. Because of his neglect for care and sociability, it cost an innocent creature its freedom, which goes completely against his morals. What has he done?

The soldier removed his helmet, revealing the army buzz-cut, sunken grey eyes, strong jaw, and full bottom lip. He showed the mer that this time, he did not mean any harm. He stayed still, eyes locked on him, sympathetic and woeful. Marius read his body language and ceased pressing himself against the glass. If he understood correctly, he was not here to torment him. Every fiber of his body told him not to do it, but he did it anyway. Hesitantly, he swam up to him, wires and tubes moving with him.

They both had a chance to get a good look at each other. Jane had never seen anything like him. The gills on the neck, the webbed claws, the scales freckling his skin, the transition from flesh to scales down his body to his tail, the color of his fins, the thick, black hair, and those deep pools of teal that pleaded to him. He understood why Grey Mann wanted such a creature like him. Disregarding the fact that they've only been known as myths, this being possessed something otherworldly. What it was, he could not say; he didn't know much about mers. He did not know what Mann had in store for the frightened mer, though he would assume nothing pleasant. Mann doesn't seem like the type to care about other things, unless it means money and power.

This was his fault. He was the reason this creature was going to die here, in captivity. He should be out in the ocean, living his own life. He didn't belong in a laboratory. He had to fix this. How he was going to do that, he didn't know yet. Better stay up all night and think of something. He put his helmet back on, and saluted the mer (who was certainly confused by this gesture). If he was going to change this mistake, he had to think of something fast. He bustled himself out of the lab, and to his sleeping quarters.

Marius was left, wondering what could have possibly gone through his head.

The next few hours were quiet. The usual group of doctors and scientists hadn't come in for a while; Marius didn't question it. He was so tired. So physically and emotionally drained that he wanted to sleep and never wake up. Or, that he'd wake up at home, next to Mick, realizing that this whole disaster was just a dream. A horrible, frightening, realistic dream. But no matter how many times he dozed off for a few minutes then jolted awake, he was still in the tank.

What time was it now? How long had he been struggling to sleep? There were no windows, no clocks (though Marius couldn't read them anyway), nothing to tell him what hour of the day or night it was. His stomach hurt. It growled and whined for food. He didn't remember the last time he ate. He didn't want to eat, he was so depressed. Whatever they feed him, he didn't want it. _If_ they feed him. He'd rather starve himself than let them have him.

That's not a bad idea, he thought. This might be the only way to his freedom, even if that freedom meant the afterlife. Marius knew Mick would not save him, not after that fight. It'd be better for them to stay apart, no matter how badly he wanted to return to him. He had to rescue himself, even if it meant dying.


	19. Strength (18)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I kept forgetting to post this yesterday, my bad! I also just want to say another thanks to all my readers, I love you all! -Picori)

"'Mornin' Mick."

" _Bonjour,_ bushman."

"Hey, fellas. Come in. Mind the pile of glass and the drops of blood," Mick opened the back door wider for the two to step through. The door shut behind them as they filed into the kitchen.

Lamarr sat at the table, pensive and quiet. He greeted them quietly. Laid out on the table were supplies: a pack of sterile cotton swabs, disposable gloves, tweezers, masks, paper towels, envelopes, brown paper bags, and empty plastic containers.

This wasn't a pleasant get-together. The somber atmosphere and sullen faces were telling of the scene. Today was the day they were going to start extensively investigating, the catalyst to a long, grueling process, with possibly no happy ending. Tavish noticed that both Mick and Lamarr looked terrible. They had the beginnings of dark circles under their eyes, their clothes were disheveled, they looked tired. All understandable and expected of this situation. 

They all shared a moment of silence, unsure of what to say in a time like this. This was one of those moments where they knew things like this happened, but they didn't expect it to happen to them. They were at a loss for words.

Tavish was the first to speak. "Listen, Mick, I'm....really sorry this is happenin.' But we can't jus' sit here and mope. It's not gonna help you, and it's certainly not gonna help him. So," he clapped a hand firmly on Mick's shoulder. "Let's pick ourselves up by our bootstraps, and get ta work!"

"I agree," Lamarr added. "I said this last night to Mick. We need to keep our heads clear and focused."

"Aye, this is true. So Mick, where do we start?" All eyes were suddenly on him. It was like they all unanimously agreed to have him be their leader in this investigation. Truth be told, he had no idea how to start something like this. No prior research went into this. They were going into this blindfolded.

"U-Uh, well, I figured we should begin by lookin' for clues. I didn't touch anything. This is how I found it. Lamarr and I took pictures just in case it needed to be cleaned up, but thankfully, it didn't. If we find anything, we must handled it with gloves and store it some place safe. Lamarr," he nudged his head at the two ex mercenaries. The tenta grabbed the pack of disposable medical gloves and masks on the table and handed them their pairs. He put on his own gear and gave Mick his. "Besides the obvious evidence in the kitchen, I'm gonna start in me bedroom with Lamarr, and you guys will cover the living room. I want to sweep this place for anything and everything. Got it?"

The group universally nodded.

"Good," he snapped the gloves over his wrists. "Let's go." 

Both groups immediately began their work, with Mick and Lamarr taking the bedroom, and Jacques and Tavish taking the living room. 

There wasn't much to look at in the bedroom. Nothing was overturned or broken, no signs of struggle on the bed or in the bathroom. Marius's side of the bed hadn't been touched since the incident when he got out of bed himself. 

"What side do you sleep on?" Lamar asked as he stood at the foot of the bed, seeing if he could assume correctly.

Mick looked up from his busy work. "On the right."

"So then he's on the left." The tenta walked around to the left side. The covers were folded back, the pillow had a little dip where the mer had laid his head, the lines in the sheets were smooth and undisturbed. No rips, no holes, no tears, no signs of a fight that took place on the bed. He looked back the pillow. A few strands of his hair were scattered. "We don't need pieces of his hair, right?"

"I'm not sure. Pick one just in case." Mick went into the bathroom and pulled out a pair of tweezers from the medicine chest. He washed it to rid it of any residue from any past uses. "Here, use this."

Lamarr took the tweezers and plucked a hair from the downy surface. "Where do I put this?"

"In this cloth." He went into his back pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief. The hair was delicately placed in the center of his palm on the fabric, then folded neatly. He left the room and placed it on the kitchen table for later analysis.

"Is there anything else in here?" The latter said as Mick returned from the kitchen.

"I don't think so. I don't think we'll really find anything in here."

"Then let's move on to the kitchen." 

Mick and Lamarr emerged from the bedroom and down the hallway. Straight ahead was Tavish and Jacques, combing through the living room. They turned to go into the kitchen.

The first, most obvious clues were the dried blood on the floor and the knife. Two swabs were pulled from the pack. Since the blood has dried, Mick went to the sink and wet the cotton ends. He shook off the excess moisture and returned to the spots. He rubbed the soaked ends on the spots until the surface was clear, save for a few smears. Both ends of the sticks were covered red.

They were handed to Lamarr, to hold to dry. He took one more and swabbed a clean area. Once they were completely dried, they were sealed in an envelope.

The knife was carefully removed and placed in a container. The easiest piece.

The pile of glass was the next bit. Mick knelt down, fingers gently touching the tips of the broken shards. He craned his neck to look at the counter, where it was last put. Judging by the placement of the shattered remnants, it was pushed forward, as if someone came through the back door and accidentally knocked into it. Mick was the last person to leave, Marius wasn't even awake when he left. Someone else had come through that door. Someone large enough to swing something around, whether it be a weapon, or their own limbs, to knock over a glass that was well away from the edge of the counter. 

"Where is all of this going?" Lamarr asked, considering they can't go to the only justice system in the world of the humans.

"I have an idea," said Mick, his back turned to the latter as he organized the evidence. "I used to work for a company that...was pretty powerful. They got their hands on anything they wanted, by any means necessary. They were a lethal force, until the last remaining brother to the founders of the company took over and fucked it up. Had a whole war against robots and bullshit like that.

We even had to put our differences aside with the RED team to help them out."

"Aye, nearly died because of those blood thirsty bucket o' bolts," Tavish added as he entered from the living room.

The tenta leaned against the counter top and folded his arms, fully engrossed in this strange event. "You were with him when this happened?"

"Oh yeah. So was Jacques. Our whole team was involved after the fact that Mann Co. had been dismantled, and our team disassembled, only for it to reassemble just to kick Grey's arse." Tavish leaned in the door frame, one hand cocked on his hip while his leg crossed over the other.

"Then I do not understand. Why are we sending this to them if they are the enemy?"

"Grey's not a problem anymore," Mick finally turned around and crossed his arms as he, too, leaned against something, that object being the table. "At least, that's what I was told. But that's not who I'm sending this to. We had a secretary that did everything for the administration. Poor sheila only had one day off, they worked her so hard."

"Wait, you're not thinkin' of sendin' all this to Pauling, are ye?" Tavish blinked, his tone doubting.

"She's all I have, Tav. I can't go to the police because Marius isn't even registered as a human bein.' They'd kill 'em for sure, if they haven't already." If the government was behind this at _all._

"But wasn't she fired or somethin'? Do you even know where she is?" Said he, as he scratched his head absently.

"The last thing I heard was that she was working under cover, to build Mann Co. back up from Grey's destruction."

The ex demo was running out of excuses. "But isn't Mann Co. technically owned by Grey? Wouldn't that mean she's workin for the enemy?"

"I don't think Miss Pauling would betray us like that. She's probably a double agent. I won't know unless I talk to her. Before we all departed, she gave us a number to reach her by. I'm gonna contact her and ask this favor. She's the closest thing we have to authority." No mattter what way he tried to deter Mick from going this route, the marksman was dead set on asking his former co-worker.

Jacques had silently joined them, standing near Tavish at the doorway. "I haven't found anything in the parlor, Mick."

"That's alright, I think most of the evidence was in the kitchen anyway. I just wanted to be sure. Next, I want to ask around, see if anyone saw anything. Jacques, I want you to take anything you find and do some snooping. You're the best person for this and I wouldn't trust anyone else with it."

The ex spy nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, mate. Alright, well, I'd like everyone to meet me outside in about ten minutes. I have to go make that call." With that, he straightened and made his way to the bedroom.

The three of them acknowledged their next command, but did not move. Mick was the only one who left the kitchen to go to his room. He sat on the bed and picked up the phone. In the drawer of the nightstand, was the small, torn piece of paper that Miss Pauling had given him with the number scribbled on it in pencil. He dialed the number and waited.

There was a tone of ringing, four times. Then, someone answered the phone on the opposite end pick up.

"This is Pauling. Who, may I ask, is calling?" 

Mick sank in his seat, a small sigh escaping his lips as he heard the familiar voice. "Miss Pauling? It's me, Mick Mundy."

"Oh, Sniper! I thought I recognized your voice." Her tone was more chipper than her default professional pitch.

"You don't have to call me that, you know my name," he joked, to ease the blow of his pending question.

"I know, but my policy says I have to for the sake of identity protection. So I see, or rather hear, that you kept the number I gave you. The last time I saw you and gave it to you, I told you to call me for emergencies. Does this mean this is an emergency?" 

"I-...Yeah, it's a real bad one. I-"

"Oh good. I mean, not good because it's an actual emergency, but-I'm sorry, I have to ask because Scout keeps calling and asking stupid questions and for dates." 

He chuckled darkly. "No worries, missy."

"Ok. Phew! Thanks. Right, so, emergency. What is it?" She opened her drawer to grab a piece of paper and a pen. 

His free hand ran through his hair, unsure of how to go about asking. "Listen, uuh-Something happened. One of my...'friends' got kidnapped and I can't go to the police on this."

"Why not?"

"B-Because....alright, listen closely. You cannot tell a soul what I am about to tell ya. I trust you with me whole heart because you never let us down before, and I know you won't let me down now," he paused to take a breath, licking his lips. "I can't go to the police because the person in question is a mythical being. A mermaid. He was abducted from my home yesterday. I can't go to the police because they can't know the person we're looking for is mythical creature, and that he exists. If they get their hands on him, I--...I don't want to know what they'd do." The line was silent. He bit his lip. "You still there?"

The secretary blinked on the other end. "You said he's a mermaid?"

"Yeah," he could hear the disbelief in her voice, and he already grew weary from the conversation. "Look, I know you think they're not real-"

"No, no, I believe it. We had to battle a wizard and collect souls, for chrissake. It's just....I always loved mermaids when I was a little girl." The memory of her numerous books on mythical creatures and dog-earing the pages of the mermaids came to mind and smiled softly. "Wow, so they're real. Ok ok, I just had to get past that. Go on."

Mick sighed inwardly, relieved he didn't have to go to great lengths to explain just how real they are. "Right, they're real. Anyway, I can't go to anyone else for fear of discovery. So I have to find him meself, and get him back. Now, I have evidence collected from the crime scene. I need to send them to you for analysis because, and I dunno how, you always know everything on the administration end. I mean, hell, everything about me was in my file, even shit I never knew! Do you get where I'm goin' with this?"

"I do, but I'm not sure if I can do that. I might even lose my job if they find out I'm working on something personal like this." She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Please, Miss Pauling. You're the only hope I've got." He hated to beg her, knowing she was always busy with some kind assignment, but he truly was desperate. Mick felt like he was hanging on the edge of her words.

After a long pause, which was followed by a light sigh, she spoke again. "Alright. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you so much, Miss Pauling. You have no idea how much I appreciate ya right now."

"Don't thank me just yet," she mused. "You can thank me when you get your friend back. Now, here's the address you send your evidence to: 124 Redd Drive, Mannsville, CA 00002."

"'Redd Drive?' 'Mannsville?' They couldn't get more blatantly obvious, could they?"

She chortled at the remark. "Right? I thought they were joking when I was first hired."

"Thanks again, Miss P. We'll keep in touch." He rose from the bed.

"Goodbye, Sniper. And good luck." The phone clunked on the receiver on the other end. Mick hung up and ran to the kitchen to grab a piece of paper and pencil to write down the address.

* * *

  
Shortly after his conversation with Miss Pauling, Mick joined his friends outside with another set of supplies: notepads and pens. They were standing on his front doorstep, while Jacques stood a little ways off to smoke his cigarette. 

"So how'd it go?" Tavish inquired before anyone else could.

"She said she'll do it. She's riskin' her job for me, so if this all goes well, I owe her my life. Hell, I'll fuckin' treat her to anything she wants." The marksman then supplied each member their pads and pens.

"This is good news," Lamarr nodded. "Let us not get too ahead of ourselves."

"Aye."

"Let's move on to the next phase: witnesses. We are going to go around this whole neighborhood first and ask if anyone saw anything suspicious. Next, we're asking around town, but that's not till later. We got to get a move on, so let's go. Jacques, you're with me. Lamarr and Tavish, take the other end of the street, and we'll meet in the middle." 

The two teams broke up and began their trail of inquisitive visits to the neighboring houses. 

Down one end, Tavish and Lamarr didn't really get any information. Folks were either not home, hadn't noticed anything, or didn't answer even though they were clearly home. At one point, Tavish caught a peek of someone through their window, eyeing them from behind the blinds. Lamarr knocked on the door again, but no one answered. The Scotsman scoffed in irritation, muttering something about taking a nine iron to their faces. The tenta couldn't understand why some wouldn't answer, when they had a serious issue on their hands. He didn't expect people to know what it was, he just didn't understand why some weren't willing to cooperate. He mentioned this to Tavish, and even he couldn't give him an answer, other than "some people are arseholes."

On the other end, with Mick and Jacques, they had visited at least five houses before coming to the one adjacent to his own. He had known these neighbors for a long time, since he moved here. They reminded him of his parents: a sweet, little old lady and a grumpy, old codger. There were plenty of times the neighborhood children kicked their ball into his yard, and he'd shake his cane and holler at them for stepping on his property as they retrieved their ball. If anyone noticed something that bothered them, it was certainly Mr. Greene.

Mick was the one to press the doorbell and warned Jacques to let him to do them talking. They stood at the doorstep for a solid minute, knowing that the Greenes were elderly people, and getting to the door from wherever they were in the house wasn't the easiest and quickest task. The doorknob jiggled and Mrs. Greene was the one to swing it open. She peered up through her bottle glasses. She smiled cheerfully.

"Why, Mick, it's so good to see you, dearie!" Her saccharine tone greeted the two hardened ex mercs.

"Hello, Mrs. Greene," the marksman softened. 

She opened the door wider and stepped out of the way. "Oh please come in, dearie!"

"Thank you, but we can't stay very long. We're actually here to ask you a few questions. Jacques, this is Mrs. Greene. Mrs. Greene, Jacques." He had nearly forgotten formalities.

The Frenchman bowed and took her hand in his, and brought it to his lips to kiss it. " _Enchante, madame._ "

Her plump cheeks brightened to a rosy shade of red. "Oh my!"

Mick's foot collided with Jacques's and the latter straightened. "Ahem. Anyway. Listen, Mrs. Greene, we want to ask you if you've seen anythin' suspicious lately, say, in the past month or so. Something...happened, and we need to find out if anyone caught anything strange."

Mrs. Greene pinched her chin as she tried to remember if things had seemed off in the neighborhood. "Hmmm...well, I have noticed that the mail has been coming later. I suppose-"

"What's that?" A whiny, deeper, nasally voice came from within the house. Mr. Greene pushed past his wife. "Suspicious, you say? I'll give ya suspicious. There was a black van blocking my driveway. I ain't ever seen that car on the street, so it musta been some out-of-towner. But I had to get to my appointment that day, and that asshole parked right in front of the driveway!"

Mick and Jacques exchanged a glance. "A black van? Come to think of it, I have seen one cruisin' about. Mr. Greene, what day was your appointment?"

"Lessee....today's Thursday...I had my appointment on Tuesday."

"Tuesday? That's the day I went out with you," he said, turning to Jacques. They may have gotten something. He turned back to the elderly couple, determination in his eyes. "Mr. Greene, did you happen to get the license plate of the van?" 

"As a matter o' fact, I did! I was gonna report that jerk but he left 'fore I had the chance to sit down and call," he said, trailing off as he turned to go back in the house to retrieve the piece of paper he hastily wrote down the plate numbers on. There was shuffling from inside, a drawer being pulled and closed. A few curses came from the living room, until he called to his wife. 

"Ellen! Do you remember where I put that damn-AH! Here it is!" In a few seconds, Mr. Greene was shuffling back to the portal with a note in his hand, which he then handed to Mick. "Heh, maybe you can do it for me. Teach 'im to never mess with ole' John Greene!"

They both glanced at the numbers and letters written on the note. This information may just be what they needed. Mick clutched it in his hand and extended it to vigorously shake his neighbor's hand. "Thanks a million, mate. You may have just answered a big question for me."

Mr. Greene gave a crooked smile, trying to keep from losing his balance from the forceful handshake. "S-Sure, Mick!"

The ex mercs promptly said goodbye and went across the street, back to his house. Mick whistled to get the others' attention, waving his arm to call them back. Tavish and Lamarr abandoned the next house they were walking to, and lightly jogged back to meet them. 

The marksman explained they just got an important clue, and that they were going to disband for now. Jacques took the note and kept it in his coat pocket. Mick ordered that they meet back at his house same time, tomorrow morning, unless otherwise told differently by him. Tavish and Jacques dispatched while he and Lamarr returned to his home. He was going to prepare to send off the evidence, but first, he needed to rummage through his house for stamps.

* * *

  
The lights flicked back on in the laboratory and Marius roused from his half-asleep slumber. That short man was back again, and he had a tall woman in a long lab coat with him. They were chatting about something that he could not hear, didn't want to hear. They approached the tank. 

"What a fine specimen it is!" Said the doctor, clasping her hands together.

"Isn't it? As soon as I caught wind of a sighting in some small town, I had to investigate for myself. My team and I located the creature within a month, and I sent out a trained mercenary to get it." Grey boasted with his hands behind his back, the most domineering person in spite of his size.

The woman frowned as she peered into the tank. "It is injured. What happened?"

Grey's pupils shrunk. "A-Ah, well, I had told my soldier to bring it here, by any means necessary. I should have cautioned him to not injure or maim it. That is my fault, and I offer my most humble apology."

"That would explain the bruise on his jaw, but not the large gash on its hip." She pointed to it, her nail tapping on the glass.

"Oh, I had not seen that one. Perhaps it is the work of nature," he fibbed, not really knowing what could have caused such a wound. Surely, that was not Jane. It would be fresher, more gory.

"Hmm, I suppose so. I'd like to examine it before the first scheduled procedure."

Grey's shoulders squared, smirking up at her. "Of course, all in good time, doctor. But we have many tests to perform on it before such a drastic procedure. You may take notes and observe it as we do them, so that you may collect as much information as possible."

She frowned and sighed, but complied with his offer. The two turned away and backed up from the tank. 

"Ah, it's feeding time." He pointed at the workers in waterproof gear, traveling down to the grates above the tank. They carried buckets of sliced, nearly-frozen fish. One went up to the edge and reached into the metal container and grabbed a handful. He threw it below in the tank, the pieces sinking near Marius.

The mer didn't budge. Though they watched eagerly, he stayed where he was, in his corner. He was sticking to his plan, refusing to eat. His stomach betrayed his wishes, grumbling for the food being given. His heartrate quickened, the machines beeping more frantically as it recorded his beats per minute. 

The doctor ooed at the observation. "Do you hear that? Its heart is beating faster! Oh this is so exciting! We are listening to the heartbeat of a mermaid!"

The workers dumped two buckets of fish into the tank, but the mer still did not move. Grey noticed the doctor looking worried.

"Why don't we come back in a little while? I'm sure it just woke up. It'll come around." He gently pushed her arm to turn around with him. She didn't fight him. They both exited the lab, while the workers went about their duties.

* * *

  
It would be a few hours until a team of scientists and doctors entered the lab again. Marius had noticed the short one wasn't with them this time, but the woman from before was among them. One was pushing a medical table with ropes and a cloth. Those items were familiar, they brought fear with them, he knew what they were for.

The crane with the net attached started to move. It was lowered into the tank, to scoop him up like a goldfish at a fair. He would not be won so easily. Marius fled from the incoming net in the opposite direction. The crane screeched to a halt and slowly, at such a painstaking pace, it turned towards him again. The actions were repeated, and he dodged it again. This was....easy. These simpletons could try their hardest to capture him, and he'd still outsmart them. For once, he felt cocky. He had so much power over them _in the water._ This was his domain. There was no way they could beat him.

That is, until he felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his arm. He felt where the pain was and found something puncturing his arm. He pulled it out. It looked like a syringe, the same ones they kept using to take blood from him. Where did this come from? His head whipped around in all directions, looking for the source of this projectile. Above on the platform, stood two workers with a weapon in the one's hands. They took aim at him again, and he felt another stab, in his chest. Another one. What are these things? What....is that...weapon? His vision began to fade rapidly. His pupils went in and out of focus, felt his body lose strength, felt his mind slipping. Within seconds, he was out cold.

The crane went to work again, and this time, successfully retrieved the unconscious mer. It lowered him down the ground level, where the workers waited with ropes. He was placed on the table, the net was discarded, and they bound him. The team of doctors and scientists wheeled him out and down more halls. 

They brought him to a simulation chamber. It was covered in a protective metal, equipped with gigantic fans, drains, multiple hoses, numerous lights, and speakers. The workers plopped him in that room and unbound him. The scientists and doctors went into the connected room, where the control boards were. It was a little cramped, no room to write on their clipboards. Everyone was eager to see how the mer would handle natural disasters, how sturdy and durable he was, how his body would hold up after Mother Nature threw everything at him. 

The door opened, and in stepped Grey Mann, with Jane at his side. The soldier felt he shouldn't be there at all. Nonetheless, he stayed anchored to Grey. The boss took up position front and center, with his accomplice next to him. 

The woman came forward and stood on his opposite side. She smiled down to him. "Any second, and it'll wake up so that we can begin."

"Of course." He hummed, eyes fixated on the huddled form of the unconscious mer.

Within a few minutes, Marius stirred. His hearing was the first to come back. The sound of a low hum from a machine woke him, different than the silence of the tank, where he last was. He was afraid to open his eyes. It took every ounce of courage to finally open them. The fuzziness faded from his vision and he used the last bit of strength to sit up. 

This room was different. There were still no windows to the outside, save for a large one to his right. He saw his reflection, while the group of humans looked back at him, unbeknownst to him. The floor was tiled, cold. The room was shiny and blank. 

"Um, sir? Permission to speak," Jane butted in, anxiety creeping into his mind and heart. Something didn't feel right-

"Permission granted," said Grey with a short nod. His hands clasped behind his back while he observed the rousing mer. 

"What-What is it that you're doing?" His stormy grey eyes kept nervously dashing to the room before them.

"Ah, I'm so glad that you asked," Dr. Williams joined in, overhearing their conversation and offering her explanation. "We are testing what these creatures do in a natural disaster, their response to them, how they react when faced in a life or death situation. We want to know the level of intelligence they possess."

The soldier's eyes blew wide. Life or death--How far were they willing to go, all for the name of science? It was a question that he didn't want to know, but felt that he was going to witness anyway. His stomach turned into knots.

"Would you do the honors, sir?" The doctor grinned, her palm outstretched to a button on the control panel. 

"It would be my pleasure." He sneered with a wicked smile. A wrinkled finger pressed the button, and things were set in motion. Jane was increasingly nervous, balling his fists by his sides, watching the mer.

An electronic voice boomed in the room, startling Marius. "INITIATION SEQUENCE ACTIVATED. PHASE ONE: HURRICANE."

Initiation sequence? Hurricane? He didn't understand these words, their meanings. His breathing sped up, his heart pounded. His emerald eyes whizzing around, looking, waiting for something to happen. A yellow light continuously blinked. That's not what he was concerned about.

The fans began to work. Their large propellers generated a forceful wind that whipped against his skin. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the gusts. It was so powerful that it inched him back. His nails scraped the tiles, searching for something to latch onto. There was nothing.

The hoses were next. Sprinklers above showered him, pelted his body like rain from an angry storm. He grimaced against the wind, against the assault upon his body. It pushed him back and back, until he was pressed against the wall. He couldn't even open his eyes. He didn't understand what was going on, how this was possible. He was in a room, but he felt like he was in the middle of a maelstrom! 

Jane bit his lip, watching the mer in agony. _This isn't right. This shouldn't be happening._

This carried on for ten minutes. Ten minutes of relentless rain and wind, of fearing for his life, of trying to desperately hold on to nothing. The scientists and doctors scribbled their notes enthusiastically. And then....

The wind ceased, the rain stopped. The floors were slippery, and Marius slid from his upright position against the wall and collapsed. His entire body shook, his breathing was fast and short. He broke out into sobs. He was so frightened, so scared, that he couldn't hold it back anymore. It manifested into sobs and gasps, trembling, and whimpers. Jane's fists shook with rage.

"Intriguing, but not impressive," Grey commented sadistically. "Let's see what happens with a tornado."

Sure enough, the voice came back to announce the next phase. "COMMENCING NEXT PHASE: TORNADO."

Before Marius could gather himself, the fans kicked back on again. There was no rain this time, only raging winds that knocked him back again. His hair was pushed out of his face. It was so powerful enough, that after three minutes of it, it dried his tail completely. He sat there, pressed against the wall, naked in his human form. The group chattered with each other, writing furiously on their clipboards. Grey rose his brows, more impressed than the last test.

"Now that's odd. Don't you think so, Dr. Williams?" His steel grey eyes flicked up to her. She smiled back, her brown eyes wide with curiosity.

"Indeed, Mr. Mann! It makes me even more impatient for the examination!" She bounced on the balls of her feet. The interaction between the two was similar to a child given a pony as a gift, to abuse, torture, and dispose of when the interest is lost. The life of the mer was in their hands, and they played with him like a rag doll. It sickened Jane immensely. He had to come up with a plan quickly, before it's too late.

Marius didn't think it could get any worse, that is, until thunder claps sounded from the speakers, and lightning simulated from the lights overhead. He could not differentiate an actual storm to whatever this was he was being put through. It was all equally terrifying, traumatizing. He couldn't fight it, even if he tried. His response was curling into a ball, laying on the floor, arms covering his head, sobbing uncontrollably, trembling fiercely. Any person in their right mind would understand that kind of body language meant that that was enough. But not to these sadistic bastards. They continuously looked on, wrote their notes and observations, did absolutely nothing to stop the torment.

What they didn't know was that Marius was utterly terrified of storms. The oceans would swell, the currents would become stronger, the waters churned furiously, wildlife would get swept up and tossed in different directions, likely beached the following day; gulls would find themselves on the mainland, away from their usual place on the open water. Boats in the harbor had to be tied down tightly, so that they wouldn't get carried off by the angry waves and that there would be minimal scuffs and bumps along the hull. Waves surged to a staggering high, especially in more tropical areas. Marius has witnessed these monstrous crests that swallowed up piers and coastlines. Whenever a storm was approaching, he sought shelter far enough on land. He was afraid of being taken by the current and hurling him somewhere treacherous, or caught up in the surf and crashing against rocks. He never wanted to take that risk, and surfaced for as long as he needed to.

Just the sounds of a thunderstorm were frightening enough. The booming claps of thunder, the jagged strikes of lightning, the whipping and howling winds, the darkness of the clouds-Marius would shake like a leaf until it passes. Now add a waterspout-and he'd downright faint. There was no water to make this happen, nor an actual funnel, but the sounds and sights were enough to make him believe he was smack in the middle of one.

Jane had just about had it with Grey and his colleagues. He mustered up the courage to speak up, against his boss. "Sir, with all due respect, this must stop. You wouldn't throw a human in there, but why a creature like him?"

The short man went rigid, his eyes narrowed, a nasty grin on his face that soured Jane's stomach. "On the contrary, we've already tested a human, and we're basing its behaviors off of the results of the human, to note the differences in intelligence. Aw, what's the matter, Jane? Can't stand a little test?"

Test or not, this was going to traumatize the mer. This was completely inhumane. He didn't want to be on the side of inhumanity. 

"Speak out against me one more time, and you'll be joining the creature in the chamber." He snapped as his lip curled.

The soldier sucked in a sharp breath. Reasoning was out of the question. He could try force, but Grey had a whole army of subordinates that would tear through him at the snap of his fingers. Jane stood down, reconsidering his options.

At long last, the winds, thunder, and lightning died down, diminishing to nothing again. Marius dared not to move. He didn't know if it was truly over. That was short-lived, as a duo of workers came in and pulled him from his fetal position. They brought him back to the middle of the room, propped him upright, and back out they went. His wide eyes searched again, for more humans, for more disturbances. 

"COMMENCING NEXT PHASE: WILDFIRE." The cursed voice rang out again.

Jane's spine straightened. Not even a human like him could withstand the heat of a raging fire. Hell, even Pyro knows not to walk right into a fire. A creature of water like him, he'd die faster than any of them in the control room. He was convinced that these weren't actual tests, these were constructed for their own sick pleasure.

Fire was shot out of a flamethrower in a short burst. It caught the mer's attention, snapping his head up. He heard the sound, but didn't see anything. The flames burst forth again, in a continuous loop, stretching out to reach Marius in the middle of the room. It was hot, a heat he had never felt before, so unfamiliar and horrifying that he shrieked. They roared at him, wanted to lick at his flesh, consume him. He backed away, trying to get out of the reach of this strange element. They pressed on.

The heat was unbearable. His body attempted to sweat, but it was so dehydrated from the salt of the water, and the winds of the previous tests that it couldn't even produce a protective layer. His arm shielded his body from the incoming flames, something he didn't anticipate. They touched his forearm and he howled in pain. The injured arm was cradled, close to his person. Tears stopped flowing from his eyes, though he cried. He grew weak, the heat was too much, he could barely breathe, he was slipping. Death was imminent. The raging fire would claim him.  
The flames suddenly stopped. Grey blinked in confusion, his ensemble equally perplexed. He looked around. Jane was out the door in an instant. Steel irises flew to the emergency shut-off button, and was furious to find that it was pressed. 

The door to the simulation chamber was kicked down, and Jane jumped over it and sprinted to the mer. He knelt down to cradle him in his arms. Marius couldn't even fight off the soldier, he had accepted his fate. Jane's head whipped over his shoulder to bark orders.

"Get a medic in here, stat!"

He wasn't confident anyone would follow his orders, he knew he didn't have the authority to command anyone. But if any one of those bastards had a shred of humanity in them, they'd come to help.

Someone had obeyed, and came running in with a large medical kit. They were trailed by two others, pushing a gurney.

The group chattered among themselves. They had nearly ended the mer's life, the same one they've been dying to get their hands on. They were divided. Some voiced their concerns, lamented their morbid curiosity, while the others hem and hawed at the soldier's actions. Grey was utterly livid, embarrassed that his underlings even opposed him. He apologized profusely to Dr. Williams, though no amount of apologies could atone for his assistant's insubordination. He turned on his heels and stormed out to confront Jane.

The soldier helped lift the nearly unconscious mer onto the gurney. He watched them hurriedly roll him out of the chamber. Grey entered and marched right up to Jane, his eyes burning with same intensity of the flames. The soldier stood at attention, ready to defend himself.

"Jane, you-you conniving wretch! Do you realize what you've done!?" His arms flailed erratically.

"I saved that creature from certain death, sir!" His voice was loud and strong as he donned his formal attitude, versus Grey's shrill pitch.

"You ruined everything! You've humiliated me, you've hurt Dr. Williams, you've upset my colleagues! We know what we are doing, unlike you! Now we have to start this all over again, because this system doesn't just pick up where it left off!" He was red in the face, his veins popped out of his neck, his hair was frazzled. Footsteps were heard from outside the chamber and both men turned to discover that the team had left and were disbanding. He grit his teeth and bit back at Jane. "This is your fault! I-I'll deal with you later. Dismissed!"

Grey whirled around to console the disappointed scientists, groveled after them.

Jane eased his posture. He knew there was going to be some sort of discipline for his actions. Whatever it may be, he had to keep his position here, at this facility. He was the mer's only way out, the only chance he had at surviving this hellhole.


End file.
